2230
by retirw
Summary: This is a future AU. Somewhat of a crossover with 'The Sentinel'. The government doesn't even consider Vin human. This really is a serious T rating.
1. Prologue

Author's Note: My deepest thanks go out to PJ in NH for taking the time to beta this story. I really was going to get around to it one of these days.

PROLOGUE

The year is 2230 a world government was created in 2030. All to soon the dreams of a world peace were replaced with repression. The United States had joined under a United Nations Charter. Too late the citizens of the once great nation discovered they were no longer guaranteed the rights that they had enjoyed under their own constitution. Free speech, freedom of religion these were rights they no longer possessed.

The once wealthy European and North American nations were systematic stripped of wealth and natural resources. In an effort to equalize the living standard throughout the world. Businesses were heavily taxed, many went out of business. Businesses closed their doors, workers were on the streets. This had horrible repercussions as the world economy failed. A world wide depression set in creating a deep unrest.

In 2070 famine struck North America. Riots and uprising were brutally extinguished as a starving population watched as the Midwest harvests were shipped to other parts of the world. There were terrible shortages. Clothing, parts to repair machinery, finally food as the transportation systems failed because of the inability to replace or repair equipment. Roads fell into disrepair.

Medicine was in short supply as disease the inevitable companion of famine arrived. Epidemics struck in the major cities as basic necessities ceased to exist. Water, sewer, heat and electric failed due to aging facilities and lack of maintenance. Whooping Cough, measles, diphtheria reappeared to decimate the uninoculated population.

By 2080 a fragile calm had fallen. A World government as such still existed. Thinly spread it usually had little impact on the average person. Most citizens only dealing with their government were the tax collectors. A 53 income tax was levied on the rural dwellers to maintain the populace centers.

Civil rights were a thing of the past. Mandates had been passed in 2073 allowing the government to place valuable individuals into protective custody. Surviving engineers, machinist, physicians, nurses, etc., "Techs," were removed from their homes and families never to be heard from again. Among those swept up under the protective order were the rare Sentinels individuals with enhanced senses.

In the late 21st century the remaining Techno-Labs were given free rein. Labs experimented without restraint. Gene manipulation created a great many 'Frankenstein's monsters.' Most were destroyed quickly. A few useful ones were saved. So the hounds were created. Having the enhanced senses of the Sentinels from whose stolen genetic codes they had been made. They lacked the guardian spirit making them destroyers rather than the village protector. Holding no territory they lacked the protective instincts of the Sentinel. These the peacekeepers found to be valuable in hunting down those deemed dangerous by the powers that be.

Massive uprisings in the 2170s beginning in the old US and sweeping into Europe, Australia and finally to the far corners of the globe, resulted in a bill of rights being instituted. Based on the Bill of Rights in the US Constitution, 2nd amendment had been written clearly guaranteed any person not convicted of a crime the right to own and possess firearms of their choice. The recent suffering of the unarmed populace proving the wisdom of an armed non-criminal populace.

Citizens now had more rights but a tyrannical government doesn't give up easily. Those strong enough, independent enough headed into the outlands. They weren't inclined to sell their souls for a few dollars. The UN could keep their public dole and the loss of personal freedom it brought. There they depended on themselves for their survival. Most considered the outlaws and lack of services worth being out from under the thumb of the UNPK.

Now in 2230 the descendants of the surviving populace were living much as their ancestors had in the mid-1800s. Cars, planes, motorized vehicles were a thing of the past for most of the population. Education became a rare privilege, survival took precedence.

Radio still existed in a few locations. Most medical care was provided by local self taught healers.

An unofficial census had estimated the world population had dropped by three quarters. The toll was much higher in what had once been industrialized nations. The techno labs of the past no longer existed. A few grim reminders of the unrestrained experimentation existed. The most used by the World Government was a twisted version of the guardian sentinels. Now they perused those the government deemed criminal as the hated hunting Hounds.

Now the story begins.


	2. Came the Hunters

COMES THE HUNTER

Four Corners was the town seat for Travis County, Colorado Territory. Located some 150 miles north of a slowly dying Denver. Non conformists, adventures, self-reliant the outlanders did not easily welcome outsiders or the weak. The fewer dealings they had with the distant government the better.

7777777

The two men leaned the chairs back against the jail wall relaxing as the town woke around them. Sheriff Chris Larabee and his chief deputy John Daniel 'Buck' Wilmington watched over the peaceful town. The two men were in many ways opposites of each other.

Larabee's angular features seemed to be cut from granite showing little emotion. Buck on the other hand had a broader face and more classical features. His emotions were easy to read most of the time his innate good humor revealed by the broad smile under the thick mustache.

Chris' eyes were an unusual shade of jade green. His straight wheat gold colored hair and lighter complexion complemented Buck's darker coloring. Buck had curly black hair and dark blue eyes along with a swarthy complexion.

Chris was a rangy 6'1" to Buck's 6'5" broader form. Wilmington was good with a gun. Larabee had uncanny speed and an amazing aim. Larabee dressed in dark colors. Wilmington wore brightly colored shirts and bandanas. Chris drowned his sorrows in whiskey. Buck buried his deep and hoped they'd go away. Different yet very much the same.

_It's a good day Chris almost smiled. When JW took that swim in the water trough all thanks to a tiny little mouse. _Buck snuck a glance at his old friend.

"Something bothering you?" Chris asked from under the low pulled black hat.

"Nah, fascination of the horrible, just thinking how lucky I am. Coulda been born looking like you and you know how I feel about ugly," Buck grinned.

Chris nudged his hat up trying to decide if the comment was worth the effort to retaliate.

_Even if I didn't like the kid I'd keep him around just 'cause he amuses Chris. It's been three years, time to get on with your life, Pard. I miss 'em too. Need to remember to keep JW away from Chris next week. It would have been Adam's eighth birthday. Never would have dreamed ole badass Larabee would have married my bratty little sister. Damn, it made you feel good just being around 'em. There was so much love in that house. _Buck sighed softly.

"BUCK! I thought you had up and died on me for a minute," Chris growled at his old friend in concern.

"Just thinking, I do know how you know," Buck forced a smile. "Hey what's that?" Buck quickly changed the subject. The sound had the men looking south. The other deputies gathered at the unusual arrival. Each, like most in this small town, had come from elsewhere. Their pasts were their own, rarely revealed and only among those trusted.

The massive Isaiah Sanchez was a sometimes preacher. Nathaniel Jackson was the tall black gunman with the deadly knives and the healer's hands. JW Dunne 'Josiah William' was a child of the city who had headed into the outlands after his mother's death. In some strange bonding Buck had immediately taken the green youngster to foster. The kid was well on his way to becoming a man worth knowing. Ezra Standish was always a question mark. A con-man and a gambler he had been passing through and stayed, becoming a useful deputy.

Pulling to a halt the truck rattled and coughed its way to a stop. The United Nations Peace Keeper logo on the door showed dimly through the dust.

"It smells worse than Buck after he's had beans," JW rubbed his nose.

"Trouble for sure," Buck growled under his breath.

"Any idea why?" Isaiah asked.

"Guess I'm going to find out," Chris sighed.

A tall powerfully muscled man approached. The khaki uniform was neatly creased and spotless. A gun belt with three revolvers and a knife encircled his waist. Dark, cold, cruel features sneered as he approached the men. The man's stringy brown hair appeared greasy. Old dirt stained his filthy hands and neck. A scruffy not quite beard coated his cheeks and chin. Close set eyes were separated by the large hooked nose.

"One of you, Larabee?" he demanded arrogantly.

"That would be me," came the almost whisper from the black dressed figure sitting in a tilted back chair.

"I've got a runner. You and your ladies here stay the hell out of my way," the stranger ordered.

"Are you official?" Chris growled.

Reaching into a shirt pocket the agent tossed a packet of papers to Chris.

"Can you outland trash read?" the man sneered.

Looking over Chris' shoulder Buck commented. "Hell, he's even uglier in his picture."

Hiding his amusement at Buck's antics Chris asked "Eli Joseph Hinkley?"

"Damn, Chris, can't be two folks that bone ugly," Buck snorted. Reaching towards a pistol butt Eli Joe halted as the black hat tilted and he was pinned by a cold green stare.

"Get your job done and get out, you're not welcome," Chris warned softly.

"You've got no jurisdiction over a UN agent," Eli spit and walked back to his truck.

"Man, the stench," Nathaniel gasped.

"Brother Nathaniel is correct the man could use a good dose of soap and water," Isaiah agreed vehemently.

"Filthy yet his attire was spotless and had been pressed," Ezra remarked as he wrinkled his nose slightly at the lingering odor.

"Who's he after?" Buck asked.

"Man named Jonas wanted for rape, murder and terrorism," Chris replied giving a physical description of the runner.

"By all that's unholy Abomination!" Isaiah thundered clinching his fists.

The startled peace officers looked up to check on the disturbance. The hunter had lowered the tailgate. Removing a leash from his belt he unlocked the cage door and clipped the leash to his hound's collar. The veiled hound crawled out on to the tailgate where Eli Joe roughly jerked it to the ground. An impression of slender limbs before a heavy hooded gray cloak was dropped over the kneeling figure marking its status as a tracking hound. Isaiah raged at the evil invading the community. A hound was a creature of nightmares. Mother's used the threat of 'The hounds will get you' much as their ancestors had threatened their children with ogres and other creatures, but hounds existed.

By-passers' angry stares greeted the hound's appearance. Furious whispers could be heard as the hound heeled the hunter. Children were pushed into homes by their mothers. Chaining the hound to a porch support Eli Joe entered Potter's store. Sinking to the wood walkway the hound leaned against the post and waited.

Chris glared across the street. Hounds were extremely rare despite government attempts to increase their numbers. There was something about the lab creations that set Chris' teeth on edge. His skin seemed to twitch and crawl in their presence, leaving him with an unnerving desire to flee the vicinity. Long ago he had decided it must be an aversion on his part to the unnatural creatures. No one else seemed effected in such a manner. He avoided them whenever possible.

An incensed Mary Travis stormed towards the jail.

"Ah shit!" Chris growled. His loyal deputies abandoned him in the face of a dangerous antagonist. Citing important duties they scattered.

"Sheriff Larabee, how dare you allow that thing in Four Corners!" Mary charged.

"It's here on official duty," Chris growled.

"At least see that it is kept away from decent people," Mary fumed.

"It's leashed. If I see any decent people I'll see that they're not exposed to it," Chris snarled.

"Our children shouldn't be exposed to such depravity," Mary's voice rose.

"It's not hurting anything. Just sitting there," Chris sighed tiredly.

"Their perversions and who knows what else. Mr. Larabee, it's a danger to the children," Mary's tirade continued.

"Mrs. Travis, the hound is a protected asset of our World Government of which you are such a staunch supporter," Chris finally snarled back. Across the street the hound flinched and pressed closer to the post as the voices rose even more. "I'll shoot the damn thing myself if it gets loose attacking furniture and molesting the chickens. Now go print up some more trouble in that paper of yours and let them catch the rapist that they're here for," Chris thundered. Mary turned and stalked off.

"Way them skirts is swishing is plumb threatening," Buck drawled from the dim jail.

"I haven't heard the last of this," Chris agreed in a tired voice. Chris sighed heavily and rose to cross the street entering Potter's store.

"Hinkley," Chris addressed the hunter examining Potter's stock. "There's a good stall down in the livery for your hound."

"Scaring the women and the Yonkers?" Hinkley laughed.

"Yeah, it would be more comfortable for the hound. Room to move around some," Larabee suggested.

"You leave my dog to me and stay out of my business," Hinkley sneered. "There's a new directive from the uppity ups. I need to let the hound book you," Eli growled.

"Book?" Chris frowned.

"That way you can handle him some if I were to get hurt," Hinkley lectured arrogantly. "Hound losses are too high lately," he piped in a falsetto "Let's get it done," Hinkley led the way to the chained hound. The hound straightened and knelt as the hunter approached. Hinkley unchained him headed towards the jail.

"Can't we do this out here?" Chris demanded.

"If you want the whole town watching him sniff on you fine," Hinkley grinned.

"Shit!" Chris kept walking. Entering the jail with a stormy look on his face Chris slammed to a halt. Buck studied the situation and decided keep his mouth shut for once.

"Take a seat this'll take a few minutes," Eli directed. Buck stood in the corner guarding Chris.

"Palms up and extended, Sheriff," Eli ordered. "Book" he loosened his hold on the kneeling hound. Leaning forward the hound took a deep breath of the presented palms and froze. "The stupid shit zoned," Hinkley growled and shook the hound roughly. The creature shivered jerking away.

_This one is really making my skin crawl. _Chris thought.

"Scent, damn you," Eli Joe cuffed him. The hound stood and moved slightly towards Chris. Cautiously he snuffled the side of Chris' neck where shoulder joined the neck. "Stay perfectly still, Larabee," Hinkley advised. The hunter's lips moved but Chris heard nothing. Startled Chris found his eyes locked with sapphire blue. The eyes seemed to change to pure gold an instant before the pupils dilated as the hound locked onto Chris. Slender fingers brushed over Chris' face and shoulders.

"Hinkley?" Chris questioned.

"Talk to him, sheriff," Eli snickered at the clearly uncomfortable Larabee.

_It's awful small for a hound. Seems pretty young maybe a pup? _Unconsciously Chris' voice dropped into the soothing tone he used when working with nervous horses. The calm easy voice seemed to relax the hound. Settling back on his knees the hound startled the gunman when it licked his left wrist and laid his head on Chris' thigh pressing close to the chair.

Hinkley pulled on the leash dragging the reluctant hound away from the Larabee. A desperate whimper sounded from the hooded figure. "No!" Hinkley roared and struck the hound. Chris felt an overwhelming rage as Hinkley stood over his hound. "Hell, stupid, worthless piece of shit," Eli Joe yelled as he kicked the small figure.

In a desperate move the hound twisted away from his handler. Lunging he took Larabee out of the chair knocking him onto the floor. Slender hands moved over Chris' chest coming to rest over his heart.

Chris pushed the hound back in a savage motion. "No!" Chris commanded, pushing against the hound's thin chest, he held the whimpering hound off.

Brutally Hinkley struck driving the stunned hound to his belly. Wrist shackles were snapped into place as Eli knelt with a knee in the squirming back.

Chris was shivering as he stood.

"Chris?" Buck demanded "You all right?"

"Yeah, shook up's all," Chris growled.

"Must like the way you smell," Hinkley laughed at the shaken man.

"What the hell just happened?" Buck demanded as he slammed Hinkley into the bars of a cell.

"Don't really know. We told those idiots this booking outsiders was trouble," Eli yelped.

Chris was torn between wanting to comfort the secured hound and wanting to put as much distance as possible between them. Chris snarled and walked out of the jail. A horrible keening sound rose from the now abandoned figure. Chris grimaced as his head began to throb.

_I must have bumped my head on the floor. He's so desperate. _

The keening came to an abrupt halt. The sounds of fists striking flesh carried to the street. Shortly the hunter crossed the street forcing the hound to heel with his head at hip level. Hands still shackled at the small of his back the hound was roughly pushed to stumble and collapse against the porch post where he was chained. Hinkley once more entered the Potter's store. Later the hunter exited the store and walked down to the saloon leaving the hound behind.

Mr. Potter carried out supplies loading them onto the truck. "Worthless government script," he fumed. Glaring he stared at the hound driving away his customers. The hound sank lower finally lowering itself onto it's belly on the side walk keeping it's head down and turned away. Sighing "It's not your fault," he told the hound. Mr. Potter reentered his store. Several hours later the hound was still on the porch.

Chris was very aware of the hound's eyes as he walked by and into the store. "Sheriff Larabee, how may I help you today?" Mr. Potter called.

"I need some cigars, Amos," Chris answered. "Amos?" Chris asked as Potter once again started to say something and stopped.

"It's the hound, Chris. He's not hurting anything but he's scaring away my customers," Amos complained.

"I'll see what I can do," Chris nodded and left. Chris was furious as he slammed through the jail door after once more confronting Eli Joe.

"Buck, the Tuells are here," Chris growled.

"I'm on it. I'll get JW to help out," Buck moved out rapidly.

"If we didn't have enough problems," Buck said to JW as they made rounds warning folks the Tuells were in town. The family was well known for their thieving ways. Dirk Tuell used his children to steal everything from food on up. Folks didn't want to send the starved looking youngsters to a retraining facility and they couldn't prove Dirk was responsible. Leaving an unhappy situation.


	3. The Tuells

THE TUELLS

Ben and Simon, the two oldest Tuell boys at eight and nine, were studying Potter's store carefully.

"Is that a real hound?" Ben asked.

"Yeah, I think so, the newspaper lady is fussing about it," Simon answered.

"It doesn't look very dangerous and it's all tied up," Simon noted.

"We need that food fer Ma and the babies," Ben worried.

"Bet there'd be a big stink if that hound was to get loose," Simon mused.

"Somebody could get hurt," Ben protested.

"Just the leash, its hands will be tied," Simon answered.

"We could ask Mr. Isaiah for some food," Ben suggested.

"We're not charity cases. Like Pa says ya gotta have some pride," Simon parroted slugging his brother. The boys worked out a plan they thought would work.

The hound tensed as the children approached. Scooting closer to the post he looked desperately into the store searching for Mr. Potter. Shifting he tucked his head down resting a cheek against the side of the post and pressing his shoulder hard against the wood.

Simon reached over unsnapping the leash and jumping back. He yelled at the top of his lungs "Hound's loose! The hound's loose!" to draw attention. The plan wasn't working properly the hound refused to budge even after Simon started throwing rocks at it. A mob gathered. Several men charged the store to rescue the yelling boy from the hound. Buck and JW arrived in the middle of the mess and a fight ensued when one of the rescuers swung on JW.

The boys slipped into the store as the fight escalated. A body hit the fruit display hard as Buck fought to clear enough room so JW could get back on his feet. JW hit a man in the jaw who was kicking the hound. Acting quickly Buck tossed the hound over his shoulder and moved calmly towards the jail. "The hound's in custody," he roared.

Chris stepped into view. "Break it up now," came the chilling order. The milling crowd cleared.

"JW, find Eli Joe," Chris growled.

Ezra appeared with Dirk Tuell at gunpoint. "This miscreant was emptying the till in the local drinking establishment. He was taking advantage of the disturbance," Ezra explained as he headed for the jail with his charge.

Amos Potter stalked across the street dragging the Tuell boys each by an ear. "Caught 'em stealing. Figure they let that poor critter loose as a diversion," Potter frowned.

Buck had deposited his cargo in the back cell and locked the hound in. Ezra with Buck's assistance searched Tuell and locked him in the first cell. Buck's lips twitched suppressing a grin as a terrified Ben and Simon were deposited in the center cell.

"Now what?" Buck exclaimed as a delegation headed by Mary Travis stormed in. JW and Eli Joe arrived. Chris shot a questioning glance at JW.

"Brothel," JW blushed.

"Sheriff, we want this situation handled," Mary huffed.

"I'm doing that now, Mrs. Travis," Chris sighed, the vein in his forehead pounding. "How'd he get off his leash?" Chris asked.

"He couldn't have done it by himself. Not with his wrists shackled like they are. Simon Tuell was standing on the store porch yelling and throwing rocks. The hound was near hugging that da...ng post. Some folks come to rescue the boy I reckon and got a mite rough when JW and I tried to send 'em home. Fight started and I figured getting the hound into a cell would be the fastest way a calming folks down," Buck reported.

"Dirk Tuell?" Chris sighed and rubbed his temples.

"Was appropriating currency which belonged to others myself included," Ezra responded.

"Did not it was my money," Tuell yelled. Buck dumped the pockets of Tuell's coat revealing a considerable lump of currency.

"Can you prove that he didn't have it already?" Chris sighed.

"Certainly you'll find amongst the coinage an antique United States Quarter dollar minted in the year 2000. It is a Georgia quarter the tail side has a rendering of a peach. I keep it in the till for luck," Ezra expounded. The strange coin was soon located among the other coins.

"Evidence indicates Dirk Tuell be held for circuit court," Chris decided.

Ben began to sob uncontrollably. "Those two?" Chris demanded.

"I caught 'em packing my canned goods into a couple of sacks," Mr. Potter looked dismayed "you can't send 'em to retraining Chris".

Chris sighed. "What a mess. JW, take a wagon and bring the boys' Ma back."

"Chris, they live way over on Cherry Creek. I won't get there till late be back sometime tomorrow afternoon," JW reminded.

"Mary, you make provisions for the family to stay in town," Chris handed out orders.

"That hound was loose. He hadn't been properly secured," Mary stood her ground. Chris looked frustrated.

JW piped up "Agent Hinkley, for improperly securing livestock the fine is fifty cents payable to the county treasurer or sheriff."

Mary's mouth fell open as Buck's chuckle was heard.

"It's in the county bylaws," JW explained.

Chris tilted his head down hiding a grin Thank you, Lord, for sending us JW. The jail emptied of everyone except the remaining deputies, prisoners, Chris and Eli Joe.

"Hell of a note," Eli growled as he dug out a pair of coins and received a receipt. Buck swung the cell door open to where the hound lay curled in a corner. Sitting down on the cot Hinkley called to the hound. The hound rose and limped over to his handler. Kneeling on the floor in front of Eli Joe his back to the others the hound waited. Disgusted looks crossed the men's faces as Eli Joe removed the veil and fed the animal. The hound's head stayed down keeping its features hidden from the others. Small chunks of a dark brown cracker were offered one by one. Carefully the hound picked each one from the filthy fingers using his teeth and lips. Bolting it down then having to wait for the next one. The Tuell boys watched in fascination as the hound fed.

Nathaniel growled a soft curse and found a clean pot filling it with water. He walked to the cell door. "Here's some water," Nathaniel offered.

"Head down," the hooded robe covered the figure so well that the restrained hands were the only visible flesh.

Nathan sat a cup and the pot down close to the hound and left the cell.

"Drink," he quickly bent to sip water directly from the pot. "Enough," a foot forced the thirsty hound back from the water. "Be puking your guts up if you drink too much," Eli growled. Finally the hound was fed and watered. Eli slipped the veil back into place and rose. "Heel," the hound followed Eli closely as he walked out. Hinkley chained the hound to Potter's porch post once again. A lock was fastened at post and another at the collar. Finally the shackles were removed.

The hound was still in front of the store, when Mr. Potter started to sweep. He eyed the hound cautiously fearing an attack. As he swept closer the hound moved into the street as far as the chain would allow. Finishing Amos turned to enter the store. The dejected figure squatted on the edge of the street in the broiling sun. Amos sighed "Come on back up here. There's no need for you to fry." Hesitantly the hound eased closer. "Come on now," Potter ordered. Cautiously the hound resumed his place next to the post under the shade.

Closing up for the evening the Potters got some unexpected help. The leg on the heavy fruit display must have been damaged during the fight earlier. Mr. Potter gasped and grabbed the edge of the table as it tilted and began to topple over. Struggling to keep it upright Potter was shocked when the hound grabbed the edge and lifted. Buck Wilmington rushed in to add his strength. Mrs. Potter tried to roll a keg of nails over to support the table. Buck nodded and the hound released the table and rolled the keg into position. Carefully Buck and Amos lowered the table till it rested safely on the keg. "Thank you," Mr. Potter gasped painfully.

The hound backed away from the threesome. Tensing, his head tilted as he sniffed softly. A slow careful movement and he lifted Amos' hands turning them palm up revealing the deep gashes caused by a rough edge. "Nathaniel best see to that," Buck suggested "I'll keep an eye on the place." The hound shifted, a hand lifted and traced a line beside Amos' spine without quite touching the man.

"We'll let Mr. Jackson look at that back while were at it," Anne Potter declared.

"It's not that bad, Annie. Just strained it for a minute," Amos fussed as he was led to the clinic.

"That was a fine thing you did," Buck told the hound as he waited for the Potter's to return. The hound sank down next to the post as Buck talked. The Potter's returned and Amos was put to bed. Mrs. Potter moved the stock inside as she prepared for the night. A plate and cup were set on the sidewalk by the hound.

"Here now you've been here all day. Eat that," She ordered softly as the hound moved away from her. Buck watched till Annie was safely out of the hound's reach.

"You stay in tonight," Buck suggested. Nodding Annie locked the door behind her.

Coming back from a late patrol Chris and Buck arrived to hear the raised drunken voice of Eli Joe. Striking the hound several times he cursed "Worthless shit, you only eat or drink when I say so."

Isaiah stood in the church doorway "Nothing more than it deserves," the preacher growled turning his back. Eli Joe dragged the hound to the truck and kenneled him then drove out of town.

Buck rode over and looked down at the untouched plate and cup. Buck was shaking with rage when he rejoined Chris.

"Nothing was touched, Chris. I never could stand a man that would beat a helpless critter," Buck fumed.

7777777

Late afternoon and the hunter reappeared. The hound was now chained in front of the saloon. Inside Chris sat in his chair watching the hunter get progressively drunker. Hinkley got up and stumbled over to Chris' table and sat down. "What is it about you, Larabee? I never saw a hound act like that before," Eli asked blearily. Buck and Nathaniel moved away from the rank smelling man. "Ain't no natural hound anyway," Eli informed them.

"We was tracking a bunch of Comanche down in Texas. Damnedest thing, we had us three hounds. We couldn't get them to hunt. Had to drag'em out of camp. They was scared to death. Couldn't beat 'em enough to get 'em to pick up the trail," Eli reminisced. Eli took a drink from his bottle. "Next morning' we rode down on the camp. There he was like some big cat the way he'd turn and strike. We'd never have taken him if he hadn't zoned. Got him caged proper and finished the job. Our hounds would hunt now that the wild one was caged. Caused a big stir back at the Center. Hotshots wouldn't believe us dumb hunters. Said there weren't any feral hounds. Told us hounds won't kill. He sure as hell had 'em eatin' their words," Eli sat back with a drunken laugh.

"Your hound isn't program bred?" Nathaniel asked in surprise.

"Nah, they'd have put him down if he'd been born in the kennels, runt like that. Turns out he's the best we have. Scrawny sure enough, but he can run them purebreds into the ground every time. I always figured him more wolf then hound. Hounds won't have nothing to do with him. They're hoping he'll grow a little more before they castrate him," Eli nodded drunkenly.

Buck looked sick "Thought they'd want some new blood".

"Vet said to cut him. He doesn't meet their criteria. Too skinny, not tall enough, zones to easy. He's got a crooked back might carry to his pups. Truth is my hound's too damn smart scares the hell out of 'em. Probably for the best. Been purty pups though," Eli downed a drink. "Figure I'll kill him one of these days. If he don't get me first," the agent's head dropped and he passed out on the table. The three men exchanged troubled looks.

"Ah, hell," Buck blurted and stomped out of the saloon. Buck caught a furtive movement in the shadows as he stepped onto the sidewalk. "You kids best leave the hound be and get home. Don't want to have to tell yer Mommas' yer hanging round the saloon," Buck lectured sternly with a hidden grin. Walking over he looked down at the scruffy figure. "Can't blame 'em, your something they've only seen in picture books," Buck said softly. "They don't come 'round out of meanness," Buck squatted trying to talk to the silent figure.

"You're a public nuisance that's for certain," Buck sighed softly. "Public nuisance," Buck mused "Hell you're not even properly secured," Buck noted of the leash. "Take you over to the jail till Hinkley sobers up". Buck unfastened the leash from the post. The hound tensed. "Well, come on," Buck said. The hound shook his head desperately. "I'll carry you if I have to," Buck threatened. The hound rose into a crouch. Buck became uneasy as a deep growl rose from the hound. "Shit, I was just getting you in out of the sun and the stares," Buck soothed. The hound stalked slightly to the right. "Chris!" Buck called loudly. Chris walked to the bat wing doors. "Kids was hanging round the saloon. Figured he'd be better off in a cell. Don't want to hurt him and he don't want to go. Want to help me out here?" Buck asked.

Chris stepped out causing the hound to move so he could watch both of them. "Let me have the leash," Chris ordered.

"Maybe that booking thing will be worth something," Buck handed it over.

Chris turned his back to the hound "heel" he ordered. A momentary pause and the hound prowled after Chris.

"I'll be damned," Buck snorted as he followed the pair. "Back cell," Buck suggested. Chris led the hound to the cell door.

"In you go," he said as he gently pushed the hound in. Reaching up he unfastened the leash. Thoughtfully he frowned at the scruffy thin figure. "There's water why don't you wash up. Take yourself a nap while you wait." The hound moved to the waste bucket and looked back. "Of course you can go," Chris blurted. "Hell of a note when you have to ask permission to take a leak." A soft sigh of absolute relief from the robed figure.

Chris sat down at his desk as the hound paced the small cell. The tilted head and soft whiffs of air revealed the cell was being scanned. The hound checked out the mattress and blankets on the cot. Pulling slightly on the mattress he caught Buck's attention.

"Something wrong?" Buck asked gently. The hound tugged on the mattress again. "Think he wants it on the floor," Buck told Chris. "It won't hurt anything."

"Go ahead," Chris said. The mattress hit the floor and was drug to the farthest corner. The hound curled up and was sleeping in no time. The Tuells all stared at the shabby figure.


	4. The Hound

THE HOUND

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Several hours later the sounds of a wagon pulling up in front caught everyone's attention. "Mrs. Tuell's here," Buck announced. Angel Tuell walked into the jail.

Chris rose immediately "Mrs. Tuell."

Buck nodded politely.

"What happened?" she asked sadly.

"They were caught stealing," Chris said gently. The tired face tightened. Walking over to her husband's cell she glared.

"Hope they got you good. Don't never come back. I've listened to too many of your lies," she said. "What's going to happen to my boys?" Angel demanded. Chris told her the story of how the hound was released so they could steal from the Potters.

"Is Mr. Potter pressing charges?" she sighed.

"No, Mrs. Tuell, I figured you didn't know. You have enough to take care of right now. Them boys are big enough to help out," Mr. Potter spoke from the doorway.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," Angel spoke sincerely. "You boys best apologize" Angel scowled at her sons peering through the bars.

"We're sorry, Mr. Potter," the boys chorused.

"Look your momma in the eye and tell me what you did," Angel commanded. Simon and Ben told their story. "Not only did you steal. You could have got that poor critter killed. You throw rocks at it. I'm ashamed of such meanness," Angel spoke in a low angry voice.

"It's just a hound, Ma," Simon responded.

"It hurts just the same as you," Angel's voice raised slightly. Without a word she turned and walked out. Leaving two very worried little boys behind.

Angel returned "I talked to Mr. Potter. You two are going to clean his chicken coop for all the trouble you caused him."

Buck ducked his head to hide his wide grin as the punishment was assigned. Cleaning hen houses was a nasty job at any time but plumb sickening in August heat.

"Mr. Wilmington, would you open this door?" Mrs. Tuell asked politely.

"Certainly, ma'am," Buck opened the door. Angel pushed the two boys back as they tried to exit.

"Would you lock it back please?" she asked. Buck exchanged a look with Chris and shrugged locking the door. "I figure if you think rockin' that poor critter was fair then a good spanking won't bother you two none," Angel fumed.

"Ma, don't whip us!" the boys begged and cried.

The hound's head rose, a silent growl rumbled in his chest.

"You knew it was wrong to steal didn't you? Knew it was wrong to unchain the hound didn't you? Most certainly knew it was wrong to hurt him didn't you?" she demanded.

"Yes, ma'am," the two boys admitted.

Angel sat down on one of the cots and pulled Ben over her knee and raised her hand. A roar and the hound came off the mattress charging the bars. Powerful slender hands passed through the bars reaching for the woman.

"Down," Chris roared as he leapt to defend Mrs. Tuell. Angel rolled off the cot and onto the floor holding Ben in a protective hug. The hound paced along the bars growling at the woman.

Buck drew his gun as Chris stepped to the cell bars. "Bed, now," he ordered. The hound stared for a moment then snarled softly. "Bed," Chris repeated. A questioning whine. "Go lay down now," Chris snarled. The hound stalked to the mattress and lay down.

Angel stared in shock at the scruffy figure lying tensely in the other cell. Looking down at Ben she hoisted him back onto the cot and finished his whipping. Simon took his place and received his swats. Both boys were crying the hound had growled continuously throughout the spankings.

"Mr. Larabee," Angel asked, "could you let me out now?"

"Certainly, Mrs. Tuell," Chris answered opening the cell door.

She walked over to the cell where the hound watched from the mattress. "Come here," she called. The hound lay perfectly still.

"It might not be a good idea," Chris warned.

"He was trying to protect my boys. Even after they hurt him, he tried to defend them," she smiled softly. Chris nodded and called to the hound. He rose and stalked to the bars. "Do you smell any blood?" Angel stretched out her right hand. The hound tilted his head. "Feel there aren't any bruises on my hand. If I really hurt those boys you could tell," Angel soothed. A gentle hand brushed under the hood and lifted the hound's chin. "Oh, Lord, just a baby your own self," Angel whispered as she looked into the worried blue eyes. Her hand gently stroked through soft curls hidden under the heavy hood. "Can I take my boys now?" Angel asked.

Chris frowned in at the tear-streaked faces. "Hmm.. You'll be responsible for them. If they cause trouble I'll have to put you in jail," Chris warned hiding his smile from the boys. Buck winked at the startled woman.

"I love my boys, Sheriff. I'll have to take the chance," she said in a subdued voice. Chris opened the door and let the two small boys run to their mother. They walked out promising not to ever steal again.

"That woman would die for them boys," Buck stated. The hound stood looking at the door where she had disappeared. Slowly he raised a hand and reached out after the departing woman. A soft sigh and he went back to the mattress and lay down facing the wall.

Hinkley arrived towards supper and paid his fine. The hound followed silently as he heeled.

"He got to rest out of the sun anyway," Buck growled as he put the mattress back on the cot. "I thought he'd kill Mrs. Tuell for a minute there. Mighty fine woman Mrs. Tuell. She figured what that hound was up to right off. Calmed right down when he was sure them kids weren't in danger," Buck mused.

"Did I ever tell you 'bout Red-haired Sally down in Tulsa, Chris?" Buck started the story as Chris shook his head. ...

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The hound's leash was securely locked to his collar and the post in front of the saloon. Hinkley was once again inside. Leaning against the post the hound waited. Billy Travis slipped a little closer trying to see the creature. Finally he had stopped just out of reach.

"Are you really a hound?" Billy asked in wonder. The hound carefully ignored the child hoping he'd go away. "I'm gonna be a Hunter when I grow up," the boy said importantly. "Just like the mysterious Ranger," the boy held up a brightly colored book. "Ma says hounds are crazy and evil. You don't seem crazy. You helped Mr. Potter," the boy continued talking to the silent figure. "Your kinda small for a hound aren't you? My book says hounds are more like Mr. Isaiah's size," the boy questioned moving closer. The hound was looking around looking for someone to fetch the youngster.

Hinkley sprang through the door and grabbed the child. "Stay away, brat," he ordered as he shook the small body. Billy screamed as he was crushed in the huge hands. The hound waited for his chance. Mary Travis left Potter's store at a dead run as she charged in to protect her boy. Tossing Billy against the saloon wall, Eli grabbed the newspaper woman. "Rather have you then the pup anyway," he grinned as the fondled the struggling woman. Billy started to sit up when brilliant blue eyes locked with the child's then shifted towards the batwing doors. Billy crept to where he could roll under the door then he ran for Ezra.

Mr. Potter ran towards the struggling pair with a shotgun. "Leave her be," he yelled.

Laughing Eli Joe turned, drew his pistol and shot the storekeeper in the head. Reholstering the gun he asked "Where were we, darlin'". Eli forced Mary up against a post tearing at her clothing. Now in range of the chain, the hound sprang onto the hunter's back. Locking his legs around Eli's waist he trapped the gun butts. A choke hold completed the maneuver. Eli slammed himself back into another post trying to unseat the attacking hound, releasing Mary who fled to the jail. Seeing that the woman and boy were now safe and nothing could be done for Potter the hound released his hold and dropped to the ground.

Pulling a pistol, Eli aimed it directly at his unrepentant hound. Head up, body tensed, the crouched figure glared back. "Be too easy," Eli snarled haltering the weapon. Moving to his truck Eli returned swinging shackles with an evil smile. "Need to remember your place," he laughed and whispered something. The hound slid to his knees with his head down.

Deputies came running from all over town. Ezra escorted Billy to his mother carefully preventing the youngster from seeing Mr. Potter. Eli's smile faded at the cold promise in Ezra's emerald green eyes.

"I'm certain Judge Travis will be interested in the treatment of his daughter-in-law and grandson," Ezra stated coldly when he approached once more.

A cold chill ran down Hinkley's spine as he considered Travis' reputation.

"Take Amos to the undertaker's," Chris ordered gently as he lifted the grieving Anne to her feet.

"Need help arresting him?" JW asked.

"I can't, he's immune as long as he's on an official hunt," Chris snarled.

"Damn fool threatened me with a shotgun," Hinkley declared. Eli then turned to his hound arrogantly knowing he was untouchable.

Dropping the shackles in front of the hound he ordered "ankles." The hound locked a set of shackles around his ankles and knelt in the dust. "Wrist," came a command. A cuff was locked around the hound's right wrist. "Belly," came the order. The gray cloaked figure lay on its belly. The wrists crossed at the small of his back. Roughly Eli jerked the other cuff into position and tightened the chain. Pulling the hound to his feet he forced him into the travel kennel in the back of his truck. Climbing in Eli Joe drove off.

"Good riddance," Isaiah exclaimed.

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Almost three weeks later the UNPK truck once more appeared. The filthy hunter jerked his hound from the cage and chained him to one of the posts in front of the saloon. A horrible stench issued from the vehicle as JW passed.

_I guess they found Jonas. Jeez, the smell how can they stand it. He must have been dead for a couple of days now. _

Chris paused as he exited the saloon. The slight figure seemed to disappear in the heavy hooded cloak. _If he didn't move you'd never see him. What in hell? _Chris' eyes met the sapphire blue of the hound staring back over the concealing veil. The strangest feeling settled as he exchanged stares with the hound. _Like I just found something I need real bad. _

Eli Joe pushed through the doors striking the hound and slamming him into the post. Chris grimaced shifting angrily unable to prevent the beating that ensued. The hound belonged to the handler. Eli stalked towards Chris "You got a problem, Larabee?" he demanded. "Hell, it's just a hound. Not like its human," Hinkley laughed. "Forgot its place. Knows better then looking real people in the eye, stupid animal," he growled. The hunter wandered off.

_It won't do any good to report him. _Chris sighed heavily and went to the livery so he could begin rounds. Passing the saloon he noted the slumped figure chained to a post. _Hell!_ Chris rode out in a temper.

Coming in eight hours later the hound was still tied at the post. Stopping in front of the jail Chris tied his black gelding and stormed inside. Filling a coffee cup Chris ended up slamming it down on the stove.

"Pup's been there all day. Hasn't been feed or watered. Nothing we can do," Buck reminded.

"I know," Chris growled.

"Ah shit! We got trouble," Buck yelled from the door. Workers from the Simmon's ranch piled off horses in front of the saloon. Notorious for being hell raisers the town braced whenever they rode in. Chris had numerous run-ins with Milt over his cruelty to animals and abusing the whores at the local brothel.

"Lookie here," Milt Simmon made a grab for the chained hound. A warning snarl came from the now crouching figure causing Milt to jump back. Laughter greeted the reaction. The lawmen hit the street at a run. Milt swung a fist only to miss the rapidly moving hound. The hound lunged causing Milt to strike the post knocking himself silly. The ranch crew sprang to retaliate for the injury to the boss' son. Gallantly the hound put up a fight only to be taken down by the mass of bodies.

JW, Isaish, Nathaniel and Ezra congregated and began to break up the scuffle. "Damn, fools!" Isaiah lectured "This isn't local. Were talking UN charges. Didn't you notice the cloak?" he thundered.

"He's a hunting hound. Protected by UN mandate," Chris hissed. Eli Joe stood on the porch watching coldly.

Clearing the pile of men away. Nathaniel frowned down at the still gray figure. Kneeling he gently brushed a hand over the faintly moving chest. "Best get him down to the clinic," Nathaniel ordered.

"Get up," Eli shouted kicking the downed hound. The still figure didn't move. "You cost me money," Eli raged. Before anyone could react Eli had put a bullet into the unconscious Simmon's head. Reaching over he jerked on the hound. The robe shifted revealing the obviously broken leg. "Worthless piece of shit," he raised the pistol aiming at the hound.

"No reason he won't heal," Nathaniel urged. Eli turned aiming the revolver between Nathaniel's eyes.

"Don't tell me my business," Eli giggled crazily.

Chris pulled his own weapon.

"You shoot my deputy and I'll kill you," came the soft growl.

"They'll hang you," Eli laughed. The hound taking advantage of Hinkley's inattention attacked his handler. Two shots were fired in the scuffle then there was silence.

"Take Milt home," Chris directed in a furious tone to the Simmon's crew. Nathaniel and Isaiah grasped the hound pulling him from Hinkley.

"He saved my life," Nathaniel seemed to be in shock.

Ezra exclaimed as he looked down at the crumpled form, "He's still breathing."

They looked over at the still hunter. Belly down in the street, his face turned to the sky proved that the hound had broken his neck. Ezra searched the body removing the key to the hound's leash, then freeing him.

"I need to see how bad he is," Nathaniel reached for the bleeding hound.

"I'll carry him," Buck offered. Gently the big man gathered the hound into his arms and followed the healer.

"JW and I will take care of the trash," Isaiah growled.

"I'll take rounds, Mr. Larabee," Ezra said and strode towards the livery.


	5. Surprises

SURPRISES

Chris shrugged then headed for the clinic. Chris entered finding the hound had revived and was now struggling wildly in the grip of Buck and Nathaniel.

"Easy, Junior, let Nathaniel patch you up," Buck soothed.

Nathaniel pulled the hood back revealing soft golden brown curls and a thin face. Terrified, agony filled, blue eyes darted above the veil. Nathaniel cut the veil free exposing fine features partially hidden by scruffy whiskers and numerous bruises. Chris gasped as the hound's terror enveloped him. Huge sapphire blue eyes locked on to him. Chris moved without thought and gently cupped the thin face in his palms. "You're hurting him," Chris blurted.

"Chris, we're trying to be gentle as we can," Nathaniel growled.

"Hell, Nate, I know that. He's out of control. Touch hurts," Chris growled.

Nathaniel gasped as he considered his patient. "How can I work on him if he can't bear to be touched?" he worried.

"Let me try," Chris approached slowly. The blue eyes never left Larabee's face. "I know it hurts. I need you to let it go now," Chris spoke very softly. "Deep breath let it go. That's it," Chris coached. Long minutes passed. "We're going to get you patched up now. Nate's going to have to touch you...Sh...sh, be still Nathaniel's a healer," Chris crooned softly.

Hesitantly long fingers touched Chris' forearm then flinched expecting a blow for the infraction. "That's it hold on tight now," Chris smiled. A soft whimper and the hound lay still. Chris clasped the hounds forearm creating a double bond.

Nathaniel had left the table mumbling to himself, letting Chris calm the terrified youngster. Pulling a book from the shelf he made a mixture of herbs. "Boil some water and let that seep for ten minutes," he ordered Buck.

"Nate, are you out of pain killers?" Chris asked.

"Different metabolism, most painkillers won't work on him. This won't hurt him," Nathaniel explained. "Let me see now," Nathaniel addressed the shaking hound. The desperate grip tightened as Nathaniel approached.

"He'll stay still," Chris promised.

Nathaniel picked up scissors and cut the roughly woven robe off. The healer's gentle eyes filled with rage. Bruises, cuts, whip marks and bites covered the heavily scared torso. Scabs had ripped open and now bled freely. A heavy steel collar circled the slender throat. Bruises edged out from under the steel and several trickles of blood. "His back's worse then his chest," Nathaniel breathed. "Is that tea cool enough to drink yet?" Nate asked.

"Here," Buck handed over the tea looking very pale.

Chris rubbed a bony shoulder gently. "Drink," he ordered. Dazed blue eyes blinked and he swallowed obedient to the command. Nathaniel smiled as the heavy lids drooped over blue eyes then slowly pulled back. The pupils were dilated to the point the blue was just a tiny ring around the black. Finally the lids closed and the thin body relaxed to the point it seemed almost boneless.

"It worked a lot faster then I figured," Nathaniel grinned cheerfully. "Best get started. I figure this'll wear off damn quick," he muttered. Chris nodded and tightened his hold on the hound's arm slightly. Quickly Nathaniel went to work on the bullet wounds. "It did a lot less damage then I thought," Nathaniel sighed as he tied off the last bandage. "Better get the leg done before that tea wears off," Nathaniel sighed. Chris' heart broke at the terrified whimpers of protest as they moved the nude hound. "I'm glad that bastard's dead," Nathaniel growled as the full extent of the injuries became apparent.

"Poor kid," Buck whispered stroking soft curls with a shaking hand. Finally the leg was set.

"Nathaniel?" the two men questioned.

"If he don't fever he's got a chance," was the hesitant reply. "Hate to do it but I need to see how bad he's tore up inside," Nate sighed.

"Can you give him some more of that tea to keep him under?" Chris asked.

"How is he?" JW asked soon as Nathaniel stepped out of surgery.

"Still breathing," Nathaniel sighed "We have to guard against infection."

"Then he's got a good chance of making it," JW settled back.

"Unfortunately, no, he doesn't," Ezra responded from the clinic door. Nathaniel glared bitterly at the conman. "If he perchance survives the injuries he sustained. The fact remains that there's no hunter to stabilize his sensory balance. A hound such as this one rarely, if ever, survives his handler," Ezra reminded. "The few that I have heard of went hopelessly insane in a matter of weeks," he said softly.

"We just have to wait and see," Nathaniel declared "Wish I knew more on how to treat that boy. I'm scared to try much of anything. The way I understand it they've mighty delicate systems when it comes to medicines," Nathaniel sank tiredly into his rocker.

"Please don't forget that the UNPK will be arriving to ascertain the situation. At which time they will in all likelihood destroy him," Ezra reminded the others.

"UNPK," Nathaniel frowned looking back at the surgery door. "What'll happen to him if the UN gets him back?" Nathaniel asked softly.

"A hound unable to fulfill its duties is humanely put to sleep. The old, the injured, the weak or crippled. The young that fail to meet criteria," Ezra continued coldly.

"They kill the babies?" JW yelped.

"Certainly one cannot breed weakness into the line and achieve a perfect specimen," Ezra stated.

Buck spoke from the door of the surgery. "Hinkley told us his ownself that if this hound had been born at the center he'd have never made it out of the nursery. They's gonna geld him so he didn't breed," Buck recounted in disgust.

JW seemed to be in shock at all he had learned. "He's gonna die?" JW asked in a whisper.

"His hunter is dead. His senses will go on overload and he'll zone so badly he'll never come out of it," Ezra agreed.

"Nate, do you have some paper and a pen?" Chris demanded.

"Sure," Nathaniel nodded towards his desk.

"Judge Travis needs to know what's going on," Chris sighed. "Ez, since he's not kennel bred what's his legal standing?" Chris asked.

"Well as a hound he...Mr. Larabee, I have no idea. He's NOT kennel bred? Dear Lord, the boy's a Sentinel! He has to be protected from those fools. I suggest that you ask Judge Travis to place the youngster into protective custody until his situation is determined," Ezra demanded. "Have you ever by chance heard of a Blair Sandburg?" Ezra asked.

"Wasn't he the fella that first made hounds?" Nathaniel asked after thinking hard.

"Not at all, like most things Sandburg's research has been twisted. Sandburg was in fact studying the Sentinel Phenomena. He believed that the 'SENTINEL' had been part of mankind's history from our beginnings," Ezra lectured.

"Sentinel? You mean a hound?" JW asked in confusion.

"Yes and no," Ezra answered. "A hound is a twisted laboratory version of a Sentinel. A Sentinel was a natural phenomena. A tribal guardian with enhanced senses. There was a biological imperative to protect. More powerful then the need to mate or in a mundane human to protect it's young. They needed to protect their tribe from all dangers. For a Sentinel to perform at optimum levels it was necessary for him or her to bond with a guide," Ezra explained.

A Hunter is a Guide then," JW said.

"No, not in the least. A hunter uses a hound. A guide was a soul mate if you will. He protected and cared for his Sentinel assuring that the Sentinel was always in the best possible health. His job was to guard the Sentinel. The Sentinel guarded the tribe. The only thing a zoned or enraged Sentinel would respond to was his guide. Sandburg believed there was a symbiotic relationship between the two and one would not survive the other," Ezra continued.

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The hound woke in agony. Lifting a shaky hand he reached for the bandages. "No, you leave those alone. We don't want you to start bleeding again," Chris ordered. "Nathaniel said you needed to drink this," Chris urged lifting the thin figure in his arms slightly. Pressing the cup to the hound's lips. "I know it smells bad. It tastes worse but it will help with the fever. Now drink," Chris ordered. In slow painful swallows the hound emptied the cup. Blue eyes gazed into Chris' green. A calmness seemed to settle in the sapphire depths and Chris was dumbfounded at the trusting look. Slowly the too seeing eyes lost focus and closed as once more the hound settled into a drugged sleep. _I need to fatten him up. Get this damn collar off too. We have to find the rest of Hinkley's keys. _Chris settled the hound back down.

"Let's move him to a bed before he wakes," Nathaniel decided after checking the wounds. Nathaniel called Ezra and Buck in. "Everybody catch a corner of the sheet and we'll use it for a sling. Tote him that way," Nathaniel directed. Soon the hound was settled into a bed. Nathaniel raised the rails to prevent him rolling out.

"He's just a kid," Buck growled in disbelief staring at the youngster. "He never had a chance did he?" Buck sighed sadly. Gently he stroked the sweaty curls back from the thin bruised features.

"Mr. Larabee, I would suggest that you bathe and partake of some substance while our young friend sleeps," Ezra suggested. "You seem to have more authority with him than the rest of us," Ezra noted.

"Do you reckon that's 'cause Hinkley did that booking thing?" Buck asked.

"Booking?" Ezra inquired.

"Yeah, said it was some kind of order from his bosses. That way the hound would let Chris near him," Buck answered.

"What did this 'booking' consist of?" Ezra asked. Chris flushed and glared.

Buck grinned "Hinkley had Junior take a snuffle of him. Must like the way he smells 'cause he knocked Chris outta his chair so's he could get closer. Was whining and carrying on like he was trying to climb under Chris' skin," Buck teased.

"Good Heavens," Ezra stared. _Could Chris be a guide?_

Late that evening Ezra walked back to the clinic. Ezra stood with a battered old leather case tightly clutched in his hands as he stood looking down at the feverish hound. Nathaniel was talking quietly to Chris who was sitting next to the hound's bed. The restless hound twitched and whimpered occasionally, settling when Chris simply touched his hand.

"Do you want him to live?" Ezra asked gently.

"Yes," Chris answered in a rough whisper.

"Help me sit him up," Ezra directed.

"Whoa, he needs to keep still. You'll bust something open moving him around," Nathaniel countermanded.

"He's overloading, there's too much stimulation," Ezra waved at the trembling hound.

"He's out of control between the pain and the drugs. He needs outside help," Ezra explained. Nathaniel stared worriedly at a calm Ezra.

"OK, sit him up real gentle," Nathaniel eased the wounded tracker up with Chris' help. Ezra gently nudged Chris out of the way and took over supporting the hound.

"Get comfortable, Chris, you're going to be here a while," Ezra suggested. Chris stared in confusion. "You get to hold him," Ezra smirked at Chris uncomfortable stance.

"Ez, the last thing he's gonna want is a man touching him," Chris argued.

"Not some man, just you," Ezra coaxed. Sighing Chris removed his boots and gunbelt emptying his pockets he slid into the bed beside the wounded tracker. "Do you need another pillow," Ezra asked with a grin. Now slightly propped up Chris waited as they carefully lowered the hound back onto the mattress. A frightened look moved over the drugged face as the hound registered Chris' presence. Ezra knelt and whispered in a soft tone. "Find the guide," he directed.

The hound's nostrils flared and his eyes slowly opened. A long fingered hand touched gently over Chris' beating heart. A happy smile settled on the now peaceful face. Shifting closer he settled down once he was pressed tightly along Chris side and his head rested over Chris heart. The hound's eyes closed and he slept easily a contented purr rumbled softly.

"I'll be ...," Nathaniel whispered.

"Ezra, what the hell's happening," Chris snarled. Chris studied the soft golden brown curls resting on his chest. Hesitantly he stroked a hand gently over them. _This feels right somehow. At least that damn headache is gone. He needs me. _

Ezra smiled as he watched Chris instinctively start the bonding process. Chris' eyes drooped nestling the Sentinel closer as he relaxed. "How incredible fortunate that they have found each other," Ezra mused.

Moving away from the sleeping pair Ezra wordlessly opened the ancient leather case he had left earlier. An old, old book was handed to Nathaniel. "Take considerable care it's two hundred years old," Ezra warned. Opening it Nathaniel was amazed to discover it was a copy of the Blair Sandburg's research into Sentinel medicine.

"This is a godsend, Ezra," Nathaniel enthused. Pages of herbal remedies their uses and dosages for Sentinel and mundane alike. Pages of Sentinel sensitivities.

A copy of Sandburg's private journal was removed along with another worn leather journal this one hand written. Nathaniel gently lifted it opening it with exquisite care. "Ezra P. Standish, Atlanta Georgia," he read aloud. "A kinsman, Ez?" he asked.

"A several times great grandfather actually," Ezra replied.

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Chris was at the bathhouse the next time the hound woke. The restless tracker woke. "Easy, Junior, It's just Buck," Wilmington smiled at the hound. The tracker's eyes darted around the dim room searching. "Chris is getting a bath and something to eat. He'll be right back," Buck soothed. "Now Nathaniel says to give ya water if you woke," Buck poured a glass and nudged the straw towards the invalid. "Now come on ya need to drink," Buck urged. The hound flinched away.

"He's been trained to only accept substance from his handler," Ezra said as he walked over to the bed.

"Well Eli Joe's dead. Junior needs to drink this water and some broth Nate made for him," Buck growled.

"I suggest we wait for Mr. Larabee," Ezra stated.

"Using my name in vain, Ez," Chris asked from the open door.

"Not at all, Mr. Larabee. I simply suggested that you would be more effective than either myself or Mr. Wilmington in getting liquids into our young guest," Ezra offered.

Gently Chris lifted the thin body to rest against his chest. Offering the glass "Cowboy, we been through this already now drink," Chris ordered. Slowly the tracker sipped the water.

"Chris, I figure Junior needs to go," Buck speculated.

Chris looked up with a frown "He's too sick to go anywhere".

"Nah, Chris, the kid needs to go," Buck stated. An embarrassed flush from Chris and the tracker gave a stiff nod. Buck and Ezra stepped out as Chris aided the bedridden tracker with a minimum of embarrassment.

"I'd say the plumbing works," Buck teased gently.

Blue eyes peeked from behind a mass of tangled curls. "Ignore him, I do," Chris suggested as he settled into the chair close to the bed. An almost smile lifted the corners of the tracker's mouth as Buck sputtered indignantly. "Do you have a name?" Chris asked. "Still not talking. That's all right but I won't call you hound. Guess I'll call you Cowboy," Chris decided. "I'm Chris Larabee" Chris gripped the younger man's arm in a forearm clasp.


	6. Changing Times

CHANGING TIMES

Isaiah would have nothing to do with the recovering hound. Perhaps hoping he'd die thus ending an uncomfortable situation. The hound made slow progress with several serious setbacks due to infection, being dangerously underweight and the effects of years of abuse.

Fearing that he was overloading because of the excruciating headaches, everyone was relieved to discover it was withdrawal from the drug-laden hound feed. Finally the headaches stopped. Except for horrible nightmares, he seemed to be on the road to recovery.

Nathaniel discovered that caring for a sick hound was far different than expected. Pain medication when it worked only lasted half as long as it should. If it hadn't been for Blair Sandburg's records Nathaniel was convinced he would have killed the youngster several times over. They suffered through allergies to the most common things, soap, the salve he used on the hounds wounds. Almost everything had to be tested before they could use it on the youngster.

Chris, Nathaniel, Ezra, Buck and JW were taking turns typing up Sandburg's old journal, in an effort to protect the delicate pages of the original.

Chris had sent a report on the situation to UNPK Denver. Five days after the killings Eli Joe's truck had been reclaimed by the UNPK. They didn't ask about the hound and Chris didn't offer any information. Everyone in town assumed that the hound had been taken along with the vehicle and Eli Joe's body. The regulators breathed a sigh of relief to see the last of the UNPK pull out of town.

A family of movers had been attacked and their wagon burned. The townsfolk somehow assumed that the youngster in Nathaniel's care was the only survivor of the massacre. Chris and the others decided not to correct the misunderstanding.

Mrs. Potter gave Chris a bundle of clothing for the youngster. "How's the child doing?" she asked softly.

"He's still pretty sick, hasn't said a word," Chris answered.

"If that child needs anything ...," Anne offered.

"I'll remember and thanks," Chris tipped his hat as he left the store with the bundle.

Discovering that he wouldn't be beaten for trying to communicate. The silent the hound began to make his wishes known. Things went easier once he discovered JW and Chris could understand sign language. He asked incessantly for clothing. Reasoning that the hound would be tempted to escape the clinic, Nathaniel refused.

The quiet tracker proved to have a bulldog stubbornness and grew more so the longer he was confined to the bed. Soon the hound was recovering well enough to drive Nathaniel to distraction.

"I thought Chris was the patient from hell," Nathaniel groaned as he sat down in the saloon.

Ezra smirked and dealt cards "Perhaps a change in the way in which you handle him, is in order."

Nathaniel glared at the smirking conman.

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Coming in from a difficult birthing, where the baby died. Nathaniel discovered his patient sleeping on the floor covered by a blanket under an open window. The normally calm healer exploded. "Get your skinny butt in that bed. Are you trying to start them places to bleeding again?" he roared waking the tracker. "If I catch you moving around I'll take a switch to you," Nathaniel snarled. His hands were gentle but firm as he settled the hound to the mattress. "I'll tie the damn fool to the bed if he moves," Jackson muttered under his breath as he straightened the room. The tracker lay still. Nate decided that the little excursion had tired him out and he was napping.

Settling in with his books Nathan tried to determine what had gone wrong with the birth and how to prevent it happening again. Soon he was buried in his research.

"Hey, Junior," Buck thundered as he clattered in. The still figure never twitched. "Junior?" Buck called in concern knowing the youngster would have never slept through his entry. Moving quickly to the bed he reached out. Slight tremors moved under chilled skin when Buck touched a bare shoulder. Terrified blue eyes refused to make contact.

Nathaniel reacted immediately to Buck's worried tone and stumbled towards the tracker. A hard lump settled into the dismayed Nathaniel's stomach. "Son, you can move now," he ordered. Distressed blue eyes shifted to the bathroom. Without a word Buck lifted the tracker blanket and all and carried him into the bathroom where he set him on his feet. Stepping out he closed the door on the shy man and waited.

"Nate, what happened?" Buck demanded "Something's scared Junior bad."

"It's my fault," Jackson moaned and sank into a chair.

"How's it your fault?" Buck asked gently of the distraught healer.

"I came in from the Miller's and found him next to the window," Nate began. "Lost my temper. Said I'd take a switch to him if he moved again," Nathaniel admitted. "I'd never hurt that boy, Buck," Nathaniel looked close to tears.

"Junior still ain't had time to learn that yet, Nate," Buck sighed.

"He was laying there for hours too damn scared to even ask if he could go the bathroom. I thought he was sleeping," Jackson groaned.

"We need Chris," Buck decided. Buck hurried out and returned with Chris in the lead.

The hound limped into the clinic his head down and eyes on the floor. Chris sighed as the hound cringed away from his hand. _Set back, he won't look me in the eye. _"Cowboy, Nathaniel wouldn't switch you. Is that why you're scared?" Chris coaxed.

"Please, no! I'm sorry. Won't get up. Please don't tie me," the hound signed nearly hysterical. Dropping the blanket he sank to the floor. Kneeling he rested his head against the floor and crossed his wrists behind his neck. Spreading his knees he waited for whatever discipline Chris chose. Chris stood in absolute shock. Nathaniel sat mouth open in disbelief.

"No, Junior" Buck groaned softly. Quickly he wrapped the trembling body back in its blanket. Buck sank to the floor and pulled the frightened tracker into his arms. Tucking the curly head against his shoulder he began to rock, cradling the tracker like a small child after a nightmare. "Sh...sh You listen ta ole Buck. Nobody's gonna tie you down, nowhere. Nobody's gonna use a strap or switch neither," Buck crooned. "Son, nobody, not Nathaniel, not Chris, not me has the right to use you that way ever. You understand me, son," Buck choked.

"Nobody," Chris promised firmly placing a hand on the trembling shoulder. Embarrassed eyes skittered away from the concerned faces. Gently Chris knelt and grasped the tracker's chin. "Nobody has the right to touch you. Not unless you say they can," Chris affirmed. Silent tears slid down the pale cheeks. The thin shoulders heaved as silent sobs shook the slender frame. After several minutes a shaky hand wiped the tears off his face.

"You better now? Junior," Buck finally asked. A soft sniffle then a nod were his answer. "My legs have gone to sleep," Buck admitted with a chuckle. "You've been up a while. You need to lay back down son," Buck suggested rubbing a bony back.

"I sleep floor," the hound signed.

"Now why do ya want ta sleep on an old hard floor when there's a good bed right there?" Buck asked calmly.

"Back hurts," he signed.

"Why didn't you say something, son?" Buck coaxed.

"I'm trouble. Didn't want to cause more," the hound answered.

"Don't draw attention to yourself. Keep quiet maybe they'll leave you alone," Chris sighed sadly.

"Boy are you hurt somewhere I didn't take care of?" Nathaniel asked concerned.

"Hinkley said his back's crooked," Chris spoke up. Buck lifted the tracker up some so Nathaniel could look.

"Yeah, the spine's curved some. Nothing' I can fix," Nate nodded. "I'll put some lineament on it when we get you settled," he gently tosseled the soft curls.

"What did the doctors at the center say?" Chris asked.

"If I hurt ta put me down," the hound signed with a bitter look.

"They told you that?" Jackson thundered in rage.

"No, they don't talk to hounds. Talk over you. Stupid animal doesn't understand what they say'," he answered. Furious looks were exchanged over the bent curly head. "Smell anger," the hound signed in distress.

"Does your back feel better when you sleep on the floor?" Nate asked taking a deep breath to calm himself.

"Yes," the hound nodded.

"Then well make you a pallet over there by the window," Nathaniel said. The hound watched in surprise as a pallet took form. He sighed in contentment as he was settled. Nathaniel carefully worked at the knotted muscles in the hound's back.

"That took all the starch out of him," Buck chuckled at the sprawled figure moaning in pleasure under the ministrations of the healer. The men moved quietly as Cowboy snored softly in his new bed.

"I sure wish that had never happened," Nathaniel sighed.

"It cleared the air. Let Junior know that things are different here," Buck pointed out. Thirty minutes later the tracker's head lifted and he rolled over. "Are you awake over there?" Buck asked.

"Yes," the hound nodded.

"Feel good?" Buck asked.

"Yes," he replied.

"We've got some stuff to settle," Chris said.

A worried look from the hound.

"You want clothes," Chris stated.

Cowboy nodded.

"Nathaniel's worried if you have clothes you're gonna slip out of here before your strong enough. Then you're gonna be sick again," Chris said. The hound got a thoughtful look on his face.

"If I let you have some clothes will you promise me to stay here till I say you're ready to leave? Rest, eat and drink like I tell you?" Nathaniel asked.

"You expect a hound to keep a promise" the hound signed then turned to face the wall.

"No maybe not. I do trust you to keep your word though," Nathaniel stated. The hound turned back with a strange almost frightened look on his face.

"I promise," he signed.

"Well we've got that settled," Chris acknowledged. "Anything else bothering you, son? Say so now," Chris ordered gently. Vin glanced up then lowered his head several times.

"I'm hungry. The water you dipped that chicken in is wearing thin," the tracker signed in a rush.

"Chris, he doesn't like my chicken broth," Nathaniel stated.

"Junior's complaining about the bed. Wanting clothes and now fussing about the vittals," Buck listed. The hound seemed to draw in on himself.

"No hounds in here. Got us a genuine people, empty belly, complaints and all," Chris chuckled.

"We better feed him or he'll shoot somebody," Buck teased. The tracker relaxed as he studied the teasing men discovering how warm and safe it made him feel. The three men exchanged looks as the tracker gently set the rocker by the window in motion, and lay watching it rock.

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Nathaniel soon was using the rocker's motion as an indicator of the hound's emotions. He never tried to sit in it but would lay close and nudge the chair into motion. When something would upset the youngster Nathaniel could sit and rock calmly a few minutes then 'Cowboy' would be calm enough for him to deal with.

Fifteen days after the killings, a hesitant Nathaniel agreed that 'Cowboy' didn't need to be in the clinic any longer. After careful consideration Chris decided to take several weeks working the back country, something he did fairly regularly. He'd take the hound with him out to his cabin. Nathaniel finally agreed that it was probably the best situation. Chris did have a radio out there and could call for help if he needed it.

Before dawn on the sixteenth day, Nathaniel handed the tracker up to the mounted sheriff. "That leg isn't healed yet. Don't you mess with that cast now," Nathaniel ordered. "Keep putting that lotion on them injuries It will help 'em heal and keep 'em from itching so bad," he reminded. Chris and the hound both nodded. Chris turned and headed out of town.

The hound stayed still just breathing deeply in contentment. _Must have felt trapped in town. It's like holding a wild thing. _Feeling a vibration Chris checked to make certain the hound was all right. _He's purring,_ Chris chuckled feeling the hound settle comfortably against him.

"We'll here we are. It isn't much but it's home," Chris said several hours later. The hound leaned forwards studying the small cabin and grounds. "Let's get you settled," Chris suggested. Shortly the hound was resting on a pallet in the bedroom. Chris was puttering around the place. He started dinner and began cleaning the cabin up while the youngster slept.

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The hound seemed to improve wonderfully now that he was away from town. Chris was concerned at first that he was attempting to do too much. After finding the hound napping, he had just laid down where he was and went to sleep. Chris decided he would rest when he needed to. Periodically something would happen to upset the youngster and Chris would find him with the horses. He seemed to draw comfort from the big animals. Chris was continually amazed at what the hound knew and more troubling what he had to teach him. Chris began riding out on patrol after the third day leaving the hound behind.

Chris rarely touched the tracker now. He was uncomfortable with the need to comfort and hold the healing hound. The hound began flinching away from Larabee after several rebuffs from the gunman. The hound grew more withdrawn as Chris distanced himself. A painful ache throbbed in Chris' temples and wouldn't leave. Larabee's short temper flashed often. Chris started avoiding the cabin and the tracker. Trying to prevent a clash that would only upset the hound.

'Cowboy' had been out to the cabin for three weeks. When Buck saw Chris in town buying supplies, they rode back to the cabin together. Buck was flabbergasted as they topped the last rise. Clothing flapped in the hot breeze while hanging on a clothesline. The yard had been mowed. Two walls had been added to the lean-to, giving the horses more protection from the elements. The corral gate no longer dragged the ground. Fence had been repaired. New shingles showed in places on the cabin roof. The cabin was freshly chinked and the leaning chimney had been rebuilt.

"Damn, all you need is some chickens and a milk cow," Buck laughed. "Junior even washed the windows," Buck chortled not noticing how uncomfortable Chris looked. "Guess we know how come Hinkley's gear was always in such good condition," Buck noted.

"Cowboy doesn't like dirt. Be careful or he'll sweep you right out the door" Chris growled as he headed down the hill.

"Something sure smells good," Buck took a deep breath.

"He's learning to cook. He's already better than you," Chris responded.

"We'll that don't take much," Buck admitted unrepentantly.

Riding around to the porch revealed the hound. Barefoot, the casted leg propped up, he sat folding clothes. A shy smile greeted Buck's boisterous "I see ya got ole Chris to work on the place some."

Cowboy, signed that dinner was almost ready. The two men rode to the corral and turned the horses in. Stepping onto the porch Buck noted the broken step had been fixed but it still squeaked when stepped on. _Reckon Chris did that deliberately. _

Starting into the house Chris halted when the hound growled softly. Sighing Chris used the boot dog and pulled his boots off setting them inside the door. He then hung his hat and duster on a peg as he entered the cabin.

"He's got you housebroke," Buck chuckled as he removed his boots, hung up his jacket and hat under the hound's watchful eyes.

Buck stood stunned looking around the 'shack.' A bubbling Dutch oven sat on top of the spotless stove. The walls and ceiling had actually been white washed. The floor had been scrubbed into submission. Simple white curtains now graced the sparkling windows. The kitchen table had been scrubbed and polished to a shine. Now there were four chairs instead of two sitting around it. Cooking utensils hung from hooks and dishes sparkled in the now oiled and buffed Dutch cupboard. "Damn Chris," Buck whispered. Chris nodded towards the open bedroom door. Painted, polished, washed or beaten the room was immaculate. A neat pallet lay under one of the windows. Chris' bed was made the pillows fluffed. Sarah's rocker sat next to the other window in a place of honor.

"Never, ever drink Cowboy's coffee," Chris warned as he prepared a pot. A snarl came from the porch when Chris picked up a spoon to sample the stew. "Damn," Chris muttered. Buck snickered at the frustrated look on Chris face. "It's my damn house," Chris growled. Vin stood in the doorway looking upset holding an armful of folded laundry. Ducking his head he limped into the bedroom to put the clothes away. Chris cussed under his breath. "I feel like a heel," he admitted to Buck.

"Junior, come here a minute," Buck called. The hound shuffled back in the room obviously distressed. "Sit down, Junior, we need to talk. Ya got this place looking like a new penny, it sure needed fixing up. There's a little problem though," Buck explained.

The youngster signed "Chris' house, Chris' things".

"Yeah, Junior, a man don't like being told what to do in his own house," Buck said.

Vin nodded and stood up. Quietly he set the table and carried the venison stew over. A pan of biscuits was pulled from the oven perfectly browned. Quickly Chris and Buck took their places. Buck tried to lighten the mood. Concerned he watched as the kid barely ate mostly moving the food around on his plate. Chris had a closed almost angry look on his face.

"That was awful good, Junior, I'm stuffed,." Buck pushed back from the table with a contented smile. Buck frowned as the youngster cleaned the kitchen area and did dishes. Limping over with the coffeepot he refilled the two men's cups. Nervously the hound set out some cookies. "These are mighty good, Junior," Buck complimented.


	7. Whiskey and Sorrow

WHISKEY AND SORROW

"How long has he been drinking?" Nathaniel asked Buck softly, watching Chris knock another glass back.

"He's started on his second bottle," Buck growled.

"You figure him and the hound got into it?" JW asked hesitantly.

"Ah hell!" Buck groaned "What's today?"

"Monday," JW replied.

"Nah the date dammit," Buck snapped.

"October 3rd, why?" Nathaniel asked.

"Shit! It would have been his and Sarah's 10th anniversary," Buck sighed. "JW you just stay away from him you hear me, boy," Buck ordered. "Chris is hurting. He says and does some meanness when he's like this. Just hates the world," Buck whispered. "I'll make sure he gets home," Buck told them.

The storm rolled in during the early evening. Bringing in heavy winds and hard rain. Buck looked on in worry when Chris pulled himself into the saddle late that night. Chris nailed the ladies' man with a black look as he rode by. Pulling up his coat collar Buck saddled up intent on following Chris home. Following behind but making no attempt to speak, Buck trailed Larabee. Buck pulled up and waited while Chris spewed virulent curses as he topped the rise by the house.

Golden light shone out into the yard and smoke curled from the chimney as the little cabin welcomed the soaked travelers home. _This is gonna get ugly real quick, _Buck mourned. Chris rode down into the yard and climbed off his horse. For once the animal was left unattended as Chris stalked for the door. Riding in fast Buck abandoned his own horse as he tried to put himself between his old friend and disaster.

The hound stood wide fear easily seen in the blue eyes as Chris ranted. All Chris' rage was released as he spewed his fury onto the hapless tracker. Buck groaned as he listened to the ugliness the drunken sheriff directed towards the youngster. A look of acceptance moved over the thin face. The hound's shoulders straightened and he stalked to the stove. Silently a plate was removed from the stove where it had been warming. A cup of coffee was poured and set on the table the hound moved silently into the bedroom returning with a blanket. He handed the blanket to the dripping Wilmington with a slight nod. _Guess he's use to dealing with a mean drunk,_ Buck thought sadly.

Chris growled as he stalked to the cabinet pulling a bottle out he dropped into a chair by the hearth and took a drink. Buck silently sat down on the other side and waited wrapped in the blanket. "I miss them so much...all my fault," Chris whispered brokenly. Chris continued drinking and mumbling. The hound sat down on the floor next to the door. He paled as he deciphered the incoherent mutterings. Finally the sheriff collapsed into a drunken stupor.

Worriedly Buck studied the drawn pale features of the tracker. Sighing the hound stood and went to the bedroom. Turning back the blankets on the bed he helped Buck move the limp Larabee to the bed. Studying him a moment the two men stripped Chris out of the wet clothes and put him to bed.

Buck walked back to the main room and sat down by the hearth. Startled he looked up when the tracker nudged him. "Thanks, Junior," Buck sighed as he took the loaded plate. The tracker sank down on the floor and leaned back against the stone of the fireplace. Startled Buck woke as the hound shook his shoulder gently. Mostly asleep Buck shuffled into the bedroom under the tracker's urging. Soon he was sleeping on the hound's comfortable pallet.

Buck woke to the sounds of breaking dishes. Springing up he stumbled to the door looking into the main room. The tracker stood pressed tightly against the outside door as Chris trashed the room.

"It's my house," he roared as the chair crashed into the wall and splintered. The hutch was turned over and broken dishes scattered over the floor. Buck flinched as another chair splintered into pieces. Chris rampage escalated as he broke what he could storming past Buck and attacked the bedroom. Bedding was tossed into the fireplace.

Chris stumbled back into the bedroom. With an incoherent cry he sank down on the floor stroking the rocker lovingly. Chris laid his head on the seat. The hound cautiously soft-footed over and draped the afghan over the weeping Larabee. Ghosting back he stood against a wall and waited. Several minutes later the drunken man climbed to his feet. A hard look crossed his face as he looked down on the hound's pallet.

"He any good, Buck?" Chris asked coldly. "Always figured you for the women. Bet Eli Joe has taught him real well. Always trying to please so hard. Look at him such a good little wife," Chris snorted. "Little freak makes my skin crawl," Chris snarled. "I never wanted to be saddled with him...Came in and took over my house like he belonged here...He wants to damn much."

Chris stalked over to the white faced tracker. "I'm not your daddy. Don't expect me to take care of you forever," Chris snarled. "If you want me so damn much maybe I'm drunk enough," Chris smiled evilly. Chris pinned the tracker brutally against the wall. Rough hands grasped painfully tight as he moved them over the trembling form.

Buck moved forward to stop Chris' assault. "Chris, stop you don't want to do this," Buck yelled.

Like a striking snake Chris spun and nailed Buck in the jaw with a hard fist. Wilmington was down and out. Rage contorted Chris features as he started to kick the unconscious man.

The hound slammed his fists into Chris' kidneys driving him away from the downed man. A back hand slap split the hound's lip as he backed away from the furious Larabee. Managing to avoid the worst of the blows the hound backed into the main room with Larabee following leading him away from Buck. Stumbling over a broken chair the hound was off balance when Chris' fist swung into his face. "Worthless, shit," Larabee growled as he leaned over pinning the tracker against the floor. Chris slammed the hound's head into the wooden floor.

"Position," Chris snarled to the dazed hound. Old nightmares returned as the youngster snapped into position kneeling with his head down hands behind his neck. Chris pushed the hound over till his head touched the floor. Panicked breaths shook the tense body. Chris' hand fisted into the collar as the other moved insultingly over the trembling hound. "You must like it. First Hinkley now Buck," Chris sneered. Cruel hands jerked on his clothing. Frozen as old training settled in the hound shivered waiting for the pain to come.

Chris stopped as the unnatural stillness of the hound cut through the fog in his brain. His head clearing he looked down at the scarred, thin body. Bruises already blossomed on the skin from his rough hands. Chris heart almost stopped when he didn't see the hound breathing. A choked cry and Chris tried to find a pulse. "Buck!" Chris' cry tore at the gentle hearted Wilmington. Buck shook his head dragging himself to his feet answering Chris pained yell.

"No, Chris!" Buck's pain filled whisper carried from the bedroom door. Wilmington leaned against the door frame horror etched into his features. "Let me see, Chris," Buck's gentle voice broke. The big rogue gently touched the thin body. A faint shocky pulse was finally located under the icy skin. Turning the hound he gently checked the blackening eye and bruises. "Doesn't seem too bad. None of the bullet holes have busted open," Buck finally said. Lifting the hound he stalked into the bedroom trailed by the suddenly sober Larabee. Gently lowering his fragile burden to the pallet Buck put every blanket over him he could find.

"To damn cold, pulse is jumpy, he isn't breathing right," Buck listed. "Reckon it's shock. Leave his pants on he's scared enough. Wish Nate was here. Wish he'd move or something. We've got to get him warm," Buck looked up fear in his eyes. "Chris! Chris, dammit do your guilty shit later. I need help now," Buck thundered. Chris took a deep breath and raised shamed eyes. "Find the flat irons and put them on the stove. Get those fire bricks that you didn't use on the chimney and put them in the fire to heat. See if there's any way to make coffee," Buck ordered.

"Coffee's ready and the irons are hot," Chris finally announced.

"Bring 'em here," Buck directed. Chris watched as Buck carefully sorted out the covers wrapping the irons to protect the hound from burns he placed them next to the chilled body. "When them bricks is warm we'll switch 'em out try to warm Junior up here. Don't think he'd be comfortable if I was to crawl in with him," Buck said calmly. An hour later Buck sat back. "He's breathing better and he's warmer," he announced. "Chris, get some clothes on and get a cup of coffee in him," Buck stood up with a moan.

"Buck," Chris looked down at the hound in panic.

"You screwed up big time, Chris. Junior didn't deserve any of this. Make it right. I need to take care of the horses," Buck limped out.

Running a trembling hand through his hair Chris finally dressed and went for the coffee. Very gently he lifted the hound into his arms and spooned a little heavily sweetened coffee into the youngster's mouth.

Buck stood silently watching his soul shattered friend minister to the hound. "Please, God, Don't let this finish Chris. You see the sparrow so can you help out a little here."

"Sometimes it hurts so bad. I let the black take over and I hurt you. Never wanted to hurt you. You didn't ever do nothing for me to treat you this way. Thank God Buck came tonight. He kept me from doing something horrible. I said hateful things and I hit you. I scared you so bad you went inside yourself to get away. I brought back all the ugly and I'm so sorry, Cowboy," Chris whispered and pulled the tracker closer against him. "I'm scared, Cowboy. I discovered I still have a heart and it hurts. Come back, I can't loose you now. I just found you. I swear I will never raise a hand against you again. Please don't leave me," Chris stroked soft curls and cried brokenly. Chris blinked as the hound took a deep breath and curled closer. "Cowboy?" Chris blurted. Bringing Buck to his side. Sapphire eyes blinked open. A puzzled look crossed his face as his position registered.

"Welcome back, Junior," Buck grinned. The sudden stiffening of the thin body as the tracker took in the room's destruction. Pushing out of Chris' arms the hound's eyes revealed soul deep shame. Chris eyes closed in pain as the damage he had done hit home. Pulling the blankets to the side Buck examined the healing bullet holes. A soft sound and the tracker ran hesitant fingers over his pants.

"Junior, it didn't happen," Buck stated firmly. Fingers brushed over the blackening eye and several of the bruises. A questioning look came into the expressive eyes. "Nobody, Junior," Buck reminded the tracker of a promise. "Thanks for taking care of the horses, Junior," Buck smiled.

The tracker sighed and tried to scramble up looking around. Buck handed the youngster a shirt to put on frowning as his teeth chattered. Quickly the shirt was pulled on and buttoned up. Rooting in his box the hound pulled a heavy flannel shirt over the first one. Buck followed in concern as the hound moved towards the main room. Distressed eyes took in the amount of destruction. Buck frowned as the barefoot moved through the broken glass. With a deep sigh the hound picked up the broom and started sweeping up the broken dishes.

"NO! It's my ...," Chris yelled. The broom fell with a clatter onto the shattered pieces. Before either man could react the tracker disappeared out the door into the storm.

"Junior!" Buck called racing out. "Lost him," Buck growled as he stalked in "Kid's like a ghost".

"What else can I screw up. I only wanted to tell him it was my mess and I would clean it up," Chris leaned against the hearth his voice miserable. Chris worked silently cleaning up broken dishes and splintered furniture. Chris paused as he worked listening to the one-sided conversation Buck was holding.

"You don't need to be out in the weather. Should have something warm to drink and snuggle down in them blankets in yonder. If you're trying to hurt Chris your doing a fine job. I can see him worrying himself gray. You cleared out of here too quick. Ole Chris figured if he broke it then he should clean the mess up. Now got back in here so I can get some peace," Buck spoke quietly.

"Buck, have you finally gone crazy?" Chris asked in concern.

"Just talking with, Junior," Buck glared.

"Cowboy isn't here," Chris reminded sadly.

"Junior's got ears like a fox reckon he can hear me," Buck reminded with a grin.

"Do you think he's close enough to listen?" Chris asked hesitantly.

"Don't know that he isn't. Don't know how far them ears of his work." Buck said.

"Go to bed, Buck," Chris ordered.

"No blankets and I won't take Junior's he needs 'em he'll be cold." Buck reminded.

"In the top of the closet there are some quilts Sarah made," Chris offered. Buck looked up in surprise and nodded at the unspoken apology. "Need to talk to Cowboy," Chris said quietly.

"Yeah, partner, you do," Buck rested a hand on Chris shoulder as he went in the other room and closed the door.

Chris talked softly for a long time as he cleaned up the wreckage. As dawn brightened the sky he began to pace worriedly. "Dammit, Cowboy, guess I'm gonna have to go look for you," he sighed. Pulling on his duster, hat and boots Chris opened the door. A wet, bedraggled Cowboy stood slouched on the porch. Mud coated the cast and the cold looking barefoot. Haunted blue eyes met shamed green. Limping in he looked around. Chris' throat worked but no words would come. An open hand was offered to Chris' surprise. Taking a deep breath Chris clasped the hound's forearm sighing in relief as long fingers locked around his own.

"I've got hot water. Why don't you get a hot bath and warm up," Chris offered. Stiff fingers struggled with buttons on the sodden shirt. Chris pulled out the tin tub and moved it over by the roaring fire. Tipping in several buckets of hot water he carried over a couple of steaming buckets and sat them on the hearth. Working quickly he refilled the cistern on the wood stove frowning in concern at the fumbling tracker. Cautiously Chris pulled the tracker closer to the fire and began unfastening the shirt buttons. The hound stood patiently as Chris worked. The flannel shirt hit the floor and was soon followed by the cotton one. The hound pushed the busy hands away with an embarrassed blush so he could take care of the buttons on the soaked pants himself.

Chris chuckled as the red-faced tracker tried to take off the clinging jeans. He slid the one remaining chair over for the tracker to sit in. Leaning over he grabbed the bottom edge of each pants' leg and pulled. When they refused to budge Chris tugged harder. Chris' hard tug tipped the chair dumping the tracker onto the floor. The pants slid free, causing Chris to loose his balance and land on his butt. Buck's deep laugh rang out. Chris lips twitched as he looked over at the worse for wear tracker.

"Don't you figure Junior's got enough bruises, Chris," Buck chortled. Flashing Buck a disgusted look, the hound rose to his feet and checked the water. "I'd say it still a little hot," Buck noted to the quickly removed fingers. "You stay there," Buck ordered. The big man turned to the sink and pumped a pan of cold water. Chris picked up a discarded shirt and wiped the mud from the hound's icy foot.

A delighted sigh escaped the hound as he settled into the water. Laying the broom across the tub Chris propped the filthy cast out of the water. "Lean forward I'll scrub your back," Chris offered. An eyelid cracked open and a blue eye glared as water splashed onto his face. Leaning forward he moaned softly as the gunman gently washed then started massaging the aching back. "Better?" Chris asked. The tangled curls nodded. "Head's up," Chris warned as he sloshed warm water over the hound's head. Buck grinned as he heard the contented purr. Chris worked the lather through the soft curls massaging the scalp as he worked. "Close your eyes. I'm going to rinse the soap out now," Chris ordered. Chris carefully rinsed the soap out and wrapped a towel around the trackers head. Working gently he dried the curls and carefully combed out the tangles. "How's that?" Chris asked.

"Chris, Junior's asleep," Buck chuckled from where he stood stirring something at the stove. Leaning forward Chris smiled at the relaxed face.

"I hate to wake him," Chris mused.

"We're right here so he won't drown. Lean him back against the tub and let him sleep," Buck suggested.

"I don't want him to chill now that he's warm," Chris sighed.

"Add some hot water and leave him till breakfast is ready," Buck ordered. Chris nodded checking the water temperature he added a bucket of hot water slowly. A soft sigh and a lazy stretch greeted the warm water. "Don't know why they call 'em hounds. Boy acts more like a big cat," Buck smiled. Waking with a start the hound jerked up. "Easy, Junior," Buck called.

"I'm gonna ride in and get Nathaniel so he can replace that cast," Buck said. "Hey, Junior, you want something from town?" Buck asked. The hound's eyes widened. "Maybe some peppermint candy?" Buck teased. The hound studied Buck silently. Chris gently stilled the nervous fingers once more pulling at the collar. _I never noticed how he's always pulling on the damn thing . Idiots all of us. Why's that thing still on him. _Buck silently promised to take care of that little bit of unfinished business. "First I'm gonna help Chris get you out of there before you two break something else," Buck grinned. The hound blinked sleepily as he was settled on to his pallet. Chris was silent as Buck helped him carry out the tub and dumping it. Between the two men they soon had the main room cleaned up. "I'll bring some dishes when I come back. You want me to come back with Nate or stay away for a few days?" Buck asked in concern.

"Come back 'Cowboy's going to have nightmares," Chris sighed.

Buck, Ezra and Nathaniel arrived riding a wagon. "Where is he?" Nate asked. Chris pointed towards the bedroom.

"Why'd you bring Ezra?" Chris demanded.

"Unfinished business, Mr. Larabee. I should have taken care of this aggravation quite some time ago. I humbly apologize, my young friend," Ezra spoke.

The hound tensed as Nathaniel quickly examined him. Frightened eyes stared at the saw that made an appearance. "Gonna take off the cast silly, not the leg," Nathaniel smiled kindly.

"How about setting him in a chair 'fore you start, Doc," Buck suggested.

The hound was soon seated in a new kitchen chair while Nathaniel sawed the cast off. While the hound was concentrating on Nathaniel and his saw. Ezra moved to the back of the chair and brushed the soft curls forward exposing the back of the hound's neck.

"As I thought," Ezra mused. "Sheriff, I hope you will turn a blind eye for a few moments," Ezra smirked. Reaching into a pocket on the inside of his jacket Ezra removed a small leather case. Opening it he laid the case on the table exposing a set of lock picks. Several moments later Ezra smiled as the lock clicked. Ezra started to pull the collar free.

Nathaniel looked up at the strangled sound. Painful wheezes as the hound tried to breathe. Quickly Nathaniel examined the loosened collar and the choking man. Working together the gambler and the healer got the collar free. The hound sat wheezing softly. A painful looking sore encircled his throat. "Easy now," Nate soothed. The hound's fingers reached for his now bare throat. Tears spilled over and ran down cheeks. Nathaniel went back to sawing the cast off. Ezra patted the hound's shoulder comfortingly. Buck grinned at the tracker as he continued touching his throat. Chris sat a cup of coffee down by the tracker's elbow.

"Looks painful," Chris growled tilting up the hound's chin so he could see the sore.

"Healing good...If you're careful and use crutches till I say otherwise, I'll leave the cast off," Nathaniel looked over. The hound smiled and nodded. "Now let's take care of this," Nate fussed softly as he washed the angry sore. Pulling some salve out of his bag and gently coated the angry looking sore on the tracker's neck. "Bet it won't even scar," Nate grinned.

The hound's throat worked and he opened his mouth a time or two. "Thank ya," the gravely whisper was clear.

"Good heavens!" Ezra spluttered.

"I didn't think hounds could talk," Buck looked shocked.

"Collar won't let ya," the hound's raspy growl answered.

"Well Cowboy you got a name?" Chris asked.

"Tanner, I'se Vin Tanner," the man answered shakily.


	8. It's A New World

IT'S A NEW WORLD

The peacekeepers met for supper. "Anybody know any Shakespeare?" JW asked.

"I have a collection of his sonnets," Ezra answered in surprise.

"I have most of his plays," Isaiah offered. "Glad to see you showing an interest in fine reading" Isaiah commented.

"It's not for me. Vin likes having folks read," JW replied.

"Junior's like a sponge can't learn enough to suit him," Buck enthused.

"Kid's smart as hell," Chris agreed.

"I can't beat him at chess any more," Nathaniel admitted.

"He plays?" Ezra asked.

"He wins...decisively," Buck teased Chris. Isaiah frowned trying to control the anger and the almost jealousy. _Satan is among us. _

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Judge Travis arrived "What happened here, Chris?" Chris filled the circuit court judge on the recent troubles revolving around the Hunter and his hound. The Tuells and his decisions involving them. Chris moved uncomfortably under Travis gimlet glare.

"The hound?" Travis asked.

"Ezra thinks the kid's a Sentinel not a hound. Hinkley said they took him away from some Comanche," Chris reported.

"A Sentinel? I want this investigated. Find proof that he wasn't kennel bred," Travis drummed his fingers. "I'll agree to protective custody. He'll have to have a guardian until his status is determined," Travis stated.

"I'll do it," Chris sighed softly.

"This could take years," Travis reminded.

"He's probably a minor," Chris snorted.

"I'll draw up the papers this afternoon," Travis agreed.

"Judge, I'd rather keep this quiet as long as possible," Chris suggested.

"That might be wise," Travis nodded.

"It'll give us a hold card that we can use. Judge can you make Ezra Standish and Buck Wilmington guardians in case something happens to me?" Chris asked.

"They'll have to agree. It would be best if the houn...boy agrees too," Travis decided.

"Tanner, he says his name is Vin Tanner," Chris smirked at the startled Judge.

"He says? You're saying he talks," Travis hissed.

"Yeah, he talks," Chris smirked. "Come on let's go ask 'em," Chris said as he led the way. Finding Wilmington and Standish in the saloon Judge Travis was surprised at how easily Standish agreed to the guardianship. The big hearted rogue didn't surprise him at all but Standish certainly had.

"Now to ask the young man," Travis sighed.

Chris nodded "He's over at the clinic". Chris walked in "Vin, brought someone to see you," Chris spoke quietly. "Vin this is Orrin Travis," Chris introduced the judge.

A soft gravely voice spoke from the dim shadows. "Judge, Colorado Territory Circuit Court." Travis started to speak and couldn't decide how to address the stranger.

"I never realized that a ho...you can speak," Travis said.

"Kin understand tha', sir. Might be human if it talks," Vin chuckled bitterly. "I'll 'have Larabee," Vin promised. "Best light a lamp for ya fall over somethin'," Vin suggested. Chris lit a lamp revealing the room and the stranger.

"Heavens, he's beautiful," Orrin exclaimed softly. Blue, blue eyes filled with real fear. _He's so damn young. _Travis studied the too thin youngster.

"I'd like to thank you, young man," Travis addressed the nervous figure. Vin blinked at the Judge's statement. "Chris said you saved my daughter-in-law and grandson's lives," Travis continued.

"Didn't save Mr. Potter," Vin said tiredly turning away. Orrin exchanged a concerned glance with Chris.

Orrin noticed a book lying on a table. "Shakespeare?" Orrin noted.

"Ezra reads ta me," Vin responded. Travis quoted a favorite piece.

"Ain't Shakespeare that's Robbie Burns," Vin frowned.

Travis smiled and nodded "Quite right, it's Burns".

"Now your legal situation is unusual," Travis began. "Sheriff Larabee and I believe that the best way to handle this is to make him your legal guardian," Travis continued. Vin frowned as he considered the Judge's words.

"Ya mean he'd own me?" Vin asked softly.

"NO!" Chris snapped.

"No, son, a guardian is more like a parent. Someone to be responsible for you. Make sure you're taken care of," Travis explained.

"He'd be like a pa?" Vin gasped.

"Legally, yes," Travis grinned at Chris startled look.

"Ya comfortable wit' this, Larabee?" Vin rasped.

"Yes, Buck and Ezra have agreed to be your guardians if anything happens to me," Chris growled softly.

"I reckin," Vin nodded.

"It's settled then I'll have the papers ready to sign tonight," Travis nodded.

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The papers were signed and locked in Ezra's safe at the saloon. As far as anyone was concerned, they didn't exist. Life went on and there was just a little insurance for Tanner in the works. Vin seemed more relaxed after he saw Chris sign the papers as if it were some type of assurance that Chris would allow him to stay.

Orrin visited with Vin several times. Chris was amused when Travis stomped into the jail and threw his hat against the wall. "Mouthy, stubborn children," he fumed.

"Judge?" Chris asked.

"He won at chess three times in a row. Three times and then he just sat there. He didn't even gloat," Orrin ranted. "I decided to use him as a sounding board while I went over the Matherly case. He contested each of my points and pointed out enough discrepancy to warrant a new trial," Orrin stomped around the room. Eyes twinkling he stopped. "Dumb, he's not," Travis chuckled.

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The tenderhearted JW had confronted Isaiah after a virulent sermon on abominations and sin one Sunday. Even the innocent youngster had realized they were directed towards the hound. A pale shaky Vin had limped to the church as the argument carried to him.

"JW leave it be," Vin said softly.

"He called you an abomination," JW cried.

"Church says I am," Vin answered gently.

Isaiah clenched his hands "You're not welcome here," Isaiah declared. JW turned in fury.

"Let's go Vin. I wouldn't want to stay where I'm not welcome," JW snarled.

"JW, calm down," Vin spoke gently.

"You're a good person, Vin," JW declared.

"I done lots a things I wish I hadn't. Least I won't have ta worry about Judgment Day," Vin's whispered

"Huh?" JW retorted.

"I got no soul," Vin started limping towards the door.

"What do you mean by that?" JW demanded.

"Hound's got no soul. If it has a soul then it must be human," Vin explained.

"If you don't have a soul how can you be an abomination?" JW asked.

"Don't understand," Vin said.

"Either you have a soul and you're an abomination or you don't have a soul," JW explained.

"If you have a soul it's Isaiah's job to offer you salvation. If you don't have a soul then you're an animal. God made the animals. God wouldn't make something that's an abomination to him," JW explained. Isaiah frowned as JW's argument bounced around in his mind.

A distressed Vin yelled "JW leave it be. Hounds was made in labs. I got no soul. Can't be saved. There ain't no heaven for a hound." Vin disappeared through the door. A shocked JW ran to the door only to find Vin had disappeared into the dark.

"JW!" Isaiah called. JW looked frantically for the tracker.

"Son!" Isaiah called.

"Don't call me son!" JW growled. "You're so full of hate you can't see what a fool you're being. Hounds might have been made in labs at first, but Vin was born," JW said sadly and left.

Isaiah turned to the alter uncomfortably. "Lord, help me see," Isaiah whispered.

JW raced to the clinic. Bursting in to discover Vin hadn't returned.


	9. Learning to Live

LEARNING TO LIVE

Dawn found Chris pacing across the clinic floor. JW was crumpled up sleeping on Vin's pallet. Buck lay across a bed staring at the ceiling.

"I'll saddle the horses," Nathaniel said as he walked out.

Nathaniel brushed and saddled the horses. Looking back he noted a strange shadow in a stall. Opening the gate he pushed the gentle mare over. "Time to go home," Nathaniel smiled down at the lump. Vin was curled up sharing a pile of straw with a new foal. Tear streaks stained the trackers face.

"Come on, let's go," Nathaniel lifted the slight form against his chest. "Need to feed you better. Weigh less then a starved cat," He fussed gently as he walked back to the clinic. Vin stiffened Nathaniel looked calmly into the panicked blue eyes. "Chris is worried about you," Jackson smiled.

"I kin walk," Vin griped.

"So you can," Nate chuckled carrying Vin on.

"You gonna fuss?" Vin asked.

"Yep," Nate answered.

"Chris'll glare," Vin said.

"Yep," Nate replied.

"Reckin we could eat first 'fore ya kill mah appetite?" Vin asked.

Nathaniel chuckled "Nope, sooner started, sooner done".

"Reckin I kin hide 'hind ya, yer big enough," Vin sighed tiredly. "Wake me when the fussing's over so we kin eat," Vin lay his head against the big chest. "Got ya a big steady heart," Vin noted as he went back to sleep.

_Wish I could heal the hurts in yours. _Nathaniel sighed to himself.

Chris ran when he spotted Nathaniel carrying Vin towards the clinic. "Just sleeping, tuckered out is all," Nate assured the worried Larabee. "Found him sharing a stall with a new foal and his momma. Told me to wake him after you calm down so he can eat," Nathaniel laughed.

"Ought to give him more chicken broth," Buck suggested. Nate winked as a blue eye opened warily.

"Easier to find him if he was big enough to cast a shadow," Chris commented. "Just put him to bed if he's that tired," JW suggested.

"Ah hell!" Vin groaned and opened his eyes. Jackson lowered the tracker to his feet.

Nathaniel started to lambaste the tracker, then stopped. Reaching over he felt the tracker's forehead for fever. "You sleeping in the stable might be getting you sick. I'll make you some tea so you don't get any worse," Nathaniel grinned evilly.

"Tastes like ditch water," Vin mumbled.

"You complaining, Tanner?" Nathaniel asked with a growl. Vin set his jaw stubbornly. "Tell you what. If you eat to suit me I won't make the tea," Nathaniel eased off. Vin nodded happily.

"Ole Chris is glaring ain't he?" Vin asked of the man behind him.

"Yes," Nate nodded.

"Got that vein pounding on his forehead. Jaws all knotted up?" Vin said. Nathaniel nodded slowly. "Got them eyes all squinched like he's bound up," Vin sighed. Jackson's jaw dropped at Vin's moxie. Chris would have killed anybody else by now. Vin turned and looked "Yup, I'll faint dead away right after breakfast," Vin promised "Soon as I find me a nice shady place ta do it."

JW's stifled giggles carried from the alley where he had ducked. Buck's wide grin faded slightly as Chris glared at him. Turning Larabee stalked towards the restaurant. Vin flashed a quick grin and limped after him.

"Slow down, Larabee," Vin called. "Somebody slip ya some castor oil?" Vin asked cheekily. Chris slammed to a halt. Turning he glared at the clearly unrepentant tracker.

"I'm gonna tell'em not to let you have any peach preserves," Chris smiled.

"Ah, Chris, don' do that!" Vin hurried his limping pace trying to catch the now grinning Sheriff.

Buck's huge laugh boomed. Wiping away tears of laughter he turned to Nathaniel. "Skinny as a rail. Good breeze'd blow him away. He just told The Chris Larabee, he looked like he was constipated in front of God and everybody," Buck was set off once again by Nate's open laughter. "Junior's mighty good for Chris," Buck chuckled.

"Boy would chuck rocks at Satan hisself," Nathaniel said as they grabbed JW and Isaiah and headed for the restaurant.

It was somewhat tense in the restaurant that morning among the peacekeepers. Isaiah's unresolved problem with Vin had everyone on edge. Vin ate steadily ignoring the situation. Buck elbowed Chris nodding at Vin. The tracker sat nodding in his chair. "Vin's gonna take a header into his plate," Buck warned. Chris reached over trying to remove the biscuit in his hand.

A grumbling protest "Get yer own this'ns mine". Then Vin settled deeper into sleep. Nathaniel gently straightened Vin as he slid towards the floor.

"Let him sleep. Maybe some of that biscuit will stick on them ribs," Nate smiled. Chris worked the biscuit free and wiped the sticky fingers.

"Best put him to bed now that he's fainted dead away," Chris said. Soft chuckles greeted the comment from the usually somber sheriff. Chris gently woke Vin and directed the unsteady limping man out.

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Ezra hid his amusement at the clearly irritated Larabee. Chris dropped into his regular chair glaring at the table top. "Mule headed, irritating, scruffy, skinny," Chris ranted softly.

"Mr. Tanner, I presume?" Ezra asked. Piercing green eyes settled on the unflappable gambler.

"Yeah, got himself all stirred up. Wanting to work so he's not a burden," Chris snarled.

Ezra nodded "Quite understandable from Mr. Tanner's point of view." Chris frowned at the Conman. "What occurs when a hound is incapable of performing his duties?" Ezra asked softly.

"Damn!" Chris muttered.

"He's frightened, Mr. Larabee. For him it's a whole new world with rules he doesn't understand. Which he fears is all too temporary," Ezra explained.

Chris frowned running his fingers through his hair. "I'll think of something," Chris promised.

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Before Chris worked out a solution Vin had created his own. Any odd jobs or where an extra hand was needed Vin mysteriously appeared. Carrying packages, as he healed chopping wood, cleaning stables, grooming horses. Chris found him working in the forge helping out one afternoon. Watching for a while as the metal took shape under the talented hands. There seemed little that Vin couldn't do and do well. Vin started providing fresh meat for the restaurant regularly.

Nathaniel grew concerned as Vin's appetite didn't pick up.

"Nothing to worry about," Buck grunted.

"Boy's too thin," Nathaniel growled.

"Nate, every Lady in town's feeding Vin Tanner," Buck snorted.

"What?" Nate spluttered.

"Vin carries a package. He won't take no money. So they give him a piece a pie. Leave a little money on account at Potter's for him when he does something extra big. The restaurant is feeding him. They gave me some money for him. Same with the ladies at Lilly's. Saloon's holding money for him," Buck reported.

Chris stared at Buck in thought. "He doesn't know how to use money," Chris decided.

"We best start an account over at the bank till he learns how," Nathaniel suggested.

"I'll talk with Mrs. Potter," Chris decided.

A clearly confused Larabee stood on the porch after his talk with Mrs. Potter. "Chris?" Buck asked in concern.

"She knows who Vin is. She doesn't give a damn. Told me what a fine man Vin Tanner is. She's teaching him his sums. Helping him figure out how much he has to spend," Chris smiled and chuckled.

"Annie Potter'll make sure the boy learns about money. She won't ever let on about what she knows," Buck acknowledged.


	10. On the Trail

ON THE TRAIL

They gathered at first light. Nathaniel and Ezra were seeing the others off. Chris was giving last-minute directions. Ezra would shoulder most of the duties. The botched bank robbery had carried a high toll. Nathaniel had two serious cases and the bank teller would almost certainly die. Isaiah looked over at Ezra's chestnut already saddled and waiting with a bedroll in place. A loaded pack horse chewed on its tether. An unreadable look on his face, Isaiah watched as the lean but no longer terribly thin Tanner walked in wolfing down the remnants of a biscuit.

"Mr. Tanner, I will be most concerned until you return," Ezra began.

"Won't steal yer horse, Ez," Vin answered sadly.

"Mr. Tanner, the thought never occurred to me. I am distressed that this trip is necessary at a time when you have not sufficiently recovered from your injuries," Ezra's tone was genuinely hurt.

"Was out of line," Vin replied softly gifting Ezra with one of his rare smiles.

"Completely understandable, Mr. Tanner," Ezra offered his hand. Vin brushed his fingers across the offered palm.

"Chris!" Isaiah snarled nodding at Vin.

"He's our best bet at picking up the trail. The sooner we get the woman and kids back," Chris answered coldly. Isaiah backed down with a rumble.

A low mumble rose from the preacher when Buck handed the tracker a gunbelt. The loops were filled with ammunition Vin hesitated then took the belt. His face was hidden under the brim of his hat as he fastened the belt around his narrow waist and tied the pigging string around his thigh to hold the holster in place. Larabee exchanged a silent look with Tanner as he handed over a cut off lever action rifle. Wordlessly Vin holstered the mare's leg.

"I can do without patching anymore holes in your ornery hide," Nathaniel said. "You come back in one piece. Bring the rest of 'em with you," Nathan growled.

Vin nodded and mounted 'Shakespeare' riding out.

"That boy still ain't healed, Chris," Nathaniel warned.

"If I left him he'd only follow," Chris sighed. "This way I can watch him," Chris reminded. Nathaniel nodded and stepped back.

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The two men stood watching the deputies ride out. "Would you join me for breakfast, Nathaniel?" Ezra asked calmly.

"Got patients to check on," Nathaniel took a bracing breath.

"May I provide you with a meal at your clinic then," Ezra offered.

"I'd appreciate that, Ezra," Nathaniel squeezed Ezra's shoulder as he passed.

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Most of the day Vin would ride ahead. Periodically dropping back from time to time. Several breathers to rest the horses were the only stops. JW watched in fascination as Vin rode. He seemed to always be in smooth controlled motion. Standing in the stirrups for miles as he scanned the trail. Leaning low out of the saddle to peer intently at something. This continued for hours. JW would try to see what Vin was studying so intently. JW blushed as he looked up into Vin's eyes at one point. A friendly smile and a nod and once more the tracker rode ahead.

Vin slowed the chestnut allowing the others to catch up. Without a word he slid from the saddle of the still moving horse and disappeared into the brush beside the trail.

"Where'd he go?" JW asked.

"He'll show," Chris answered as he continued riding now leading Ezra's horse. Almost an hour later Chris pulled up by a large rock shelf running beside the trail. Tanner lay stretched comfortably on the stone his hat pulled low over his face dozing in the sunshine.

"It's a big lizard," Buck commented.

"Took ya'll long 'nough," Vin acknowledged them pushing up his hat and sitting up.

"Well?" Chris asked.

"Left the trail 'bout a quarter of a klick on up. Figure ta cross tha river and make camp. Start out early," Vin suggested.

"We still have daylight," Isaiah protested.

"Hosses is tired. Mighty tricky trail up there. Still be on it after tha gloamin'. Ain't a place ta night down, no water," Vin gave his reasons for the early stop.

Chris lent forward resting his hands on the saddle horn as he stretched. "Picked a spot for camp?" He asked. Vin nodded.

Standing the tracker walked to the edge of the shelf and slid onto Shakespeare's saddle. Crooking a leg over the saddle horn Vin slouched down into the saddle. A knotted bandana appeared he opened it to reveal a dozen rocks.

"JW ya want ta help me out?" Vin asked.

"Sure," JW answered.

"Ride up ahead a bit close ta tha yella bush on yer left. Keep ya a good holt ta yer pony could be a wild ride," Vin directed. Riding ahead JW was in the middle of a sudden explosion of movement and sound. The air was full of beating wings. The little bay mare was dancing around at the sudden commotion. Keeping his seat JW calmed the wide-eyed horse. Looking up JW was amazed the feathered bodies laying in the trail. Vin dismounted and began gathering the birds. Tying their feet together he hung them from Buck's saddle horn.

"Since when do I pack your game?" Buck teased.

"Ain't gonna get near tha chestnut with no flapping wings. I'd have ta walk back ta Four Corners," Vin drawled.

"We'll eat good tonight. Trust in the Lord and he will provide, right preacher?" Buck chortled.

"Yea, verily I say trust in the Lord always," Isaiah replied.

"Best keep a rock handy," Vin said as he rode past. The gravely whisper carried back. Isaiah frowned as he watched the tracker's back.

"Wow, he took 'em on the wing," JW said awestruck.

"Learn anything today, JW?" Buck asked.

"Well, Vin won't go hungry very often," JW considered. "Can't think of anything else," JW cast a worried look around trying to see what he had missed.

"Don't make Junior mad enough to chuck rocks at ya," Buck laughed. Swiping JW's hat he headed out in a canter to catch up with the others JW on his heels.

"Did you see it, Buck?" Chris asked softly.

"You mean Junior tossing them rocks with either hand?" Buck looked over.

"Yeah," Chris exchanged a look with the rogue.

"Something worth remembering. Not many folks can use either hand that way," Chris noted.

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Taking a deep breath Isaiah tried to calm his nerves as they neared the river crossing. _Lord I have tried to be a good and faithful servant. You have given me neither gills nor fins. Please keep me out of that water._ Isaiah's big sorrel became nervous responding to the man's fear as they started to ford. The horse stepped into a deep hole and floundered. Isaiah lost his seat as the horse struggled to maintain his footing. The overbalanced animal went down taking the frightened preacher with him.

A lean figure reached from the left grabbing the struggling man's coat as the current started to sweep him by. Between the sudden weight of the huge man and the pull of the current Vin was jerked from the saddle. In a desperate straining pull Vin managed to get Isaiah next to the chestnut. Isaiah locked fingers around the saddle horn in a death grip.

"Git on with ya," Vin ordered and smacked the chestnut's rump sending it to shore. Avoiding flailing hooves Vin got the panicked sorrel calmed. Climbing into the saddle he made shore without any further difficulties.

"Got baptized there, Isaiah," Buck said with a shaky grin steadying the big man's steps. Coughing the river water up he ignored the tracker ride up the bank. "Not very Christian of ya, Isaiah," Buck chided sadly. "Ole Vin was watching you start in. Knew you didn't like the water. Was staying close in case you had trouble," Buck turned away and followed the others leaving Isaiah on the bank with a disgusted looking Shakespeare.

"Not you too," he glared at the horse. "That unnatural creature is an abomination before God," Isaiah whispered to himself as he mounted.

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They made camp in a peaceful glade next to the river. "Vin get out of those wet clothes," Chris ordered. Vin nodded as he finished settling Ezra's horse.

"Ah shit," Vin sighed. Chris looked up to see the dismayed tracker looking at the cantle of the saddle where his bedroll should be. "Musta come lose in tha river," he sighed.

"Here they'll be a little short," JW said offering a dry pair of pants.

"Cain't wear 'em, JW," Vin sighed "Thank ya though".

"I don't mind," JW seemed hurt.

"The soap hurts mah skin," Vin seemed embarrassed.

"You can't wear those wet things you're already shivering," JW said in concern. Buck and Chris had each removed a blanket from their bedrolls and laid them on the pack's tarpaulin. Providing Vin with a makeshift bedroll. A shirt was laid on the blankets for the tracker's use. JW had a pleased grin at Isaiah's offer.

"Mrs. Miller was quite embarrassed to tell me my shirts got washed in with some the ladies' underthings. She uses a different soap for them," Isaiah muttered.

"And here I was thinking you'd been visiting with Miss Lilly," Buck chuckled.

The preacher was now changed and spread clothing over a nearby bush to dry. Vin silently walked into the brush returning shortly. Isaiah's shirt hung to Vin's knee's the sleeves had been rolled up then tied at the wrists so Vin's hands were exposed.

"Not a word Bucklin er I'll shoot ya in the ass," Vin snarled as he shuffled by. Vin started spreading his clothing to dry.

"Hold still," Chris ordered and quickly dried Vin's dripping hair.

"Looks like he's about five and ready to be tucked in for the night," Buck shook his head.

"Vin, sit down and wrap up, your teeth are chattering," Chris ordered. He studied the strained features and the dark circles around Vin's eyes. Vin wrapped up and watched as the birds were spitted and roasted over the fire. After a satisfying meal Vin stood up and limped into the brush. JW was checking on the horses when Vin came back.


	11. Lessons on Life

11. Lessons on Life

Lessons on Life

"JW, come here?" Vin called. JW walked over to the hunkered tracker. "Whatcha see?" Vin asked.

"Footprints," JW answered.

"Tell me 'bout 'em," Vin directed.

"Huh?" JW grunted.

"What makes 'em different from each other?" Vin prodded.

"These are a lot smaller," JW said looking up at Vin.

"What else?" Vin urged. JW looked at the tracks again

"The big one's are further apart. Look deeper too," JW decided.

"Yep," Vin agreed "What's that tell ya?"

"The big tracks belong to a taller man his legs are longer. He's heavier too," JW decided.

"Good," Vin nodded "Know who they belong ta?"

"Well these are mine," JW indicated the smaller tracks.

"These others?" Vin asked.

JW frowned "Even if you were wearing boots, your feet are too small." Looking over at the other men JW decided "Chris' feet are too small, Isaiah's are too wide. These are Buck's".

Vin nodded "Yep". Moving to the fire Vin wrapped up in the blankets. "Most trackin's done in yer head." Vin told the curious JW. "Not jus' follerin' tracks on tha ground. Ya trail 'em in yer mind. Where they going? What does it need? Is it gettin' thirsty, hungry? Does it know yer after it? Is it running or is it gonna circle back and hunt you?" Vin lectured.

"You could tell who's were who's by smell couldn't you?" JW asked.

"Coulda why bother iffen I kin do it an easier way," Vin replied.

"Using your senses is harder?" JW asked in surprise.

"Not a simple thing," Vin sighed. Seeing the honestly curious look on the other men's faces. "Close yer eyes. Whatcha smell?" Vin asked.

"Dirt, trees, smoke, wet wool," came a chorus of answers.

"That's all? Ya don' smell the river? Leather, gun oil?" Vin asked. "Kin ya smell me?" Vin urged the men to recognize the things they were smelling.

"Kinda flowery" Buck decided.

"Tha's tha soap. What 'bout me?" Vin prodded

"Kind of minty," Chris frowned. The others opened their eyes and nodded.

"Can you recognize yer horse?" Vin asked.

"Of course not," JW snorted.

"Why not horse is kinda strong" Vin asked.

"There's six horses," JW pointed out.

"Be easier just ta open yer eyes ta find 'er," Vin suggested.

"Well sure," JW answered.

"JW just 'cause ya kin do somethin' don't mean it's the easiest or best way ta do it," Vin pointed out. "Kin get lost in the senses, zone. Go so deep ya can't find yer way back," Vin whispered.

"Eli Joe kept you from zoning?" JW asked.

"Never hunted fer him. I tracked," Vin growled.

"There's a difference?" JW straightened up.

"I kin teach ya ta track," Vin smiled,"Ya notice thing's. Ya think". "Ya could never hunt. That's somethin' yer born wit'. Reckin it's God's curse," Vin sighed turning away.

"What's it like?" JW asked after exchanging looks with Chris.

"Like being in a big ole canyon wit' all kinds of echos, filled wit' talking, yelling crying, screamin' people. They's all makin' all kinds a racket. They don't never stop. There's this door and if ya try real hard ya can hold it closed shutting 'em outside. Soon as ya let up tha door pops back open. They's more doors fer smells, sounds, touch and taste. If ya stretch real hard ya kin keep 'em all closed. Stayin' 'way from folks helps some. A hunter's suppose ta help keep them doors shut, kinda like a lock. When ya get caught in front of one of them open doors. He pulls ya back and slams tha door. Sa tired of pushin' on them doors," Vin stumbled to a halt. "I'se a might tired. Wake me for mah watch," Vin pulled the blankets close and settled down. He was soon sleeping deeply.

"What's going to happen to him?" JW worried.

"He'll zone or he'll go insane," Chris admitted.

"Can't we do something?" JW demanded. Chris shook his head watching the troubled sleeper. Chris moved slightly laying his hand on Vin's shoulder as a familiar pattern began. Vin was starting into a nightmare. Vin relaxed at the touch and settled.

"Isaiah, you have first watch. Buck you then JW. I'll take the last one. Let Vin sleep, he's pushing to hard," Chris ordered.


	12. Tracking

TRACKING

Vin rose early sitting quietly with Chris for a few minutes he rose with a nod and went to saddle Shakespeare. Vin headed on up the trail leaving the camp behind. He was waiting by a hidden trail as the others rode up. "Keep close ta tha wall trails a might shaky," Vin directed as he rode through the brush.

"Danged if I want to know what Junior considers a bad trail," Buck wiped his sweaty face once he reached the top of the switchback.

"Isaiah, you can stop praying now," JW teased.

Vin rode up with a tight pale closed look on his face. Working the tarp lose on the pack horse he removed a shovel. "Reckin ya have ta see it Chris. Need some words said, preacher," Vin growled. The men started forward. "Buck, you and JW make some coffee, rest the horses," Vin ordered.

"Vin, I'm not a kid," JW complained.

"JW, cain't ya just do what I ask!" Vin yelled. JW sat up straight in the saddle. Vin's haunted blue eyes settled on him. "Please, JW, stay in camp," Vin whispered as he spun Shakespeare and quickly rode off.

Chris tensed and rode after him with Isaiah following. In a beautiful little glade Vin was waiting. A familiar scent of death filled the air. "All of 'em?" Chris asked. Vin nodded.

"Ya need ta write it all down?" Vin asked.

"Have to keep a journal for the court," Chris nodded.

"Leave tha horses here," Vin slid down.

"If we had only kept going yesterday," Isaiah thundered.

"Didn't matter none. They been dead since noon yesterday," Vin answered. "Stay back here till yer called," Vin ordered the furious preacher. "They's six of 'em. #1 he's got almos' black hair. Six feet, 180 pounds, left handed. Right leg's a might shorter'n the left. Gives him a kinda rolling limp. #2's 'bout 5' 7" or 8". 190 pounds. He's right handed. Walks back on his heels. #3's got red hair, 6'4" 220 pounds, probably right handed least wears his holster on that side. Got him a skinning knife likes ta use it. #4's 6' a wide bodied fella walks like he's galled. 230 pounds. Right handed. #5 5'10" drags his feet. Worn down boots. 160 or so. Figure he's young least ways he ain't ridden with this bunch long. Lost his dinner over yonder. #6 is 6'2" 190 pounds left handed blond haired. Figure he's carrying some deep scratches. Man's plumb crazy. Got crooked teeth. The bottom ones overlap themselves up-front and the eye teeth point towards the front up top. Real ugly, Chris," Vin warned.

Chris closed his note book and took a breath.

Buck followed the determined JW into the glade. "JW, this ain't a good idea," Buck was fussing as they rode in.

Isaiah was furiously pacing by the horses as the other two rode in. Buck paled when Chris suddenly lurched and rushed to the edge of the clearing. JW grew uncomfortable as he watched Chris vomiting into the bushes. Vin stood waiting for Chris to return. Vin's soft gravely whisper carried to others as he reported on the order in which Sarah Johnson and her children had died. He explained the injuries and how they were inflicted. The calm unemotional voice droned on as Chris wrote. Unashamed of the tears on his face Buck reached for the shaken Dunne.

"Oh, dear God," Isaiah mourned the deaths.

"They made her watch 'fore she died. Put up a fight they's skin under her nails. She was already dead when #6 took her. Bites didn't bruise. #1, #2 and #6 took turns with tha little girl. Iffen they hadn't beat her head in with tha rock she'd have died from bleedin inside. Cut her tounge out so's she couldn't scream. They tied tha boy so's he couldn't fight 'em. #3, #4 and # 6 used tha boy. Then # 4 used tha knife on him. Bled ta death. Kept tha woman alive fer a couple hours for they cut her throat. Knife has 'bout a 4" blade. They used a belt on her. These marks is from the buckle. It's got a UNPK buckle on it see tha mark here and here where it hit. Got ya tha evidence case," Vin started gathering hair samples etc and getting Chris to label them.

Buck had started digging after JW pushed him away. One grave was finished and he had started the second when Chris left the crime scene. Isaiah growled when Vin lifted the little body in his arms and walked off. The preacher stormed after him to recover the child. Isaiah stopped when he came to the tracker by a pool of clear water. Vin had pulled the torn dress together as best he could. Gentle hands washed the dead skin removing the touch of her murderers.

"You rest now, baby. Yer Momma's gotcha now won't nobody hurt ya no more," The tracker rocked the small body. "Buck, got tha grave dug?" Vin asked.

"Yes, I'll take this lamb to him," Isaiah gentled his voice.

"Kay," Vin handed the pitiful bundle into his arms.

Vin walked back to the death scene. He cut the boy's body free. Lifting it he headed back to the water. Isaiah returned to where Vin cared for the dead. "His clothes is gone. Cain't bury him like this," Vin sighed. Isaiah removed his shirt giving it to Vin. The gentle hands respectfully covered the horribly abused body.

"I'll take him now," Isaiah offered. Vin gently settled the body in Isaiah's arms and made one more trip to the killing ground.

Chris pushed the exhausted tracker to the side lifting the woman. Vin led the way to the pool. Buck appeared to help lift the now cleansed body from the water. "I'll take her," Buck choked as he walked to the grave site. Vin stayed away as Isaiah prayed over the graves.

JW darted angry looks at the tracker's back. He refused to talk about why he was so angry. Vin rode ahead following the tracks. Chris finally ordered a halt for the night. Vin sat silently looking into the fire. "It isn't human," JW muttered.

"What, JW?" the worried Buck asked.

"Vin. He just talked like it wasn't nothing. Just stone cold!" JW yelled. "He didn't even act like it bothered him. Not human!" JW shouted and left the fire. Buck got up and went after the upset youngster. When JW returned with Buck a few minutes later Vin looked up.

"Ain't human," Vin's soft growl echoed in the silence. "Mighty glad of it," Vin stated hoarsely. "Ya think this is the first time I seen this?" Vin's voice rose. "Seen it lots in tha last five years. These folks died easy, JW. They died easy," Vin stood trembling and disappeared into the shadows. JW stood uneasily in the now silent clearing.

"Temper's human enough," Buck smiled sadly after the disappearing tracker.

Isaiah raised his head. "They got a big start on us today," he noted.

"Yeah," Chris acknowledged. They finally settled for the night with no sign of Vin. Vin had the horses saddled and waiting when the others woke. He waited silently while they ate.

"Vin I ...," JW said.

"Don' matter none. Ya was hurtin', JW," Vin said softly.

"It does matter, Vin. You matter," JW reached out. Vin backed away. "Vin, please don't be mad," JW asked.

"Ain't mad, JW. Ya 'member me telling ya 'bout them doors?" Vin asked in a tired voice.

"Yeah," JW replied.

"Having trouble keepin' 'em closed," Vin nodded and moved off. Chris frowned and rode to catch up with the tracker.

"Vin?" Chris asked. The tracker never looked over.

"I'ffen it happens. Make sure JW don't see ya put me down, Larabee," Vin said and rode ahead.

Chris sat still as the others caught up.

"Problems, Brother?" Isaiah asked cautiously.

"He's worried about overloading" Chris sighed "Figures we'll have to shoot him". Isaiah shifted in the saddle. "No words, Preacher?" Chris asked.

"No, Brother," Isaiah answered softly.

"Keep JW busy. I need to talk to Buck," Chris ordered.

Isaiah started a convoluted conversation trapping JW. Chris led Buck ahead far enough to prevent JW overhearing.

"Junior's scared," Buck spoke quietly.

"Yeah, don't want JW to see it," Chris gritted.

"Chris, I figure, Junior's a lot tougher then he thinks," Buck grinned. "You stay close. Junior's mighty tired. Maybe you could help with them doors of his," Buck suggested. Chris calmed somewhat and rode on.

That evening Vin zoned badly over a cup of coffee. Later the men were wakened by Vin's moans. "Hurts, hurts," Vin whimpered as he shifted on the blankets.

"Vin, Cowboy, what hurts?" Chris asked gently. Vin's unfocused eyes blinked.

"Mah back," Vin finally admitted.

"Vin, drink this it's one of Nathaniel's teas help with the pain," Chris ordered. Vin swallowed the tea without complaint. _Must be hurting real bad, _Chris thought.

"If you'll allow me I can make you more comfortable," Isaiah knelt down by the nervous man.

"Let Isaiah help," Chris suggested.

"Give you a massage. Loosen those muscles up," Isaiah offered.

"Feels real good, Vin," Buck coaxed "Isaiah's fixed me a few times that way".

"Kay," Vin decided.

"Lay down on your belly," Isaiah directed. Isaiah slid into position. "Gonna touch your neck now," Isaiah informed the tense youngster. The big hands began to stroke and manipulate the muscles. Slowly he moved to the knotted shoulders. "You're strung tighter then fence wire. Relax now I'm not gonna hurt you none". Isaiah tried to relax the knotted muscles. Moving down he laid a palm over the spasming muscles in Vin's lower back. "How long has this been going on?" Isaiah demanded.

"Wha'?" Vin tensed back up.

"These muscle spasms that's what?" Isaiah snorted.

"Better part a four years," Vin muttered.

"Why didn't you get something done about it?" Isaiah said in shock.

"Knowed how they'da took care of it. Didn't feel like lettin' 'em do an autopsy wit' me still breathin'," Vin snorted.

Isaiah started to argue with the bitter man and decided getting the problem taken care of was more important. "Take off your shirt," Isaiah ordered. Rising and searching his bag for oil. Isaiah took no note of Vin's sudden fear.

Chris settled down next to the anxious man. "If you want him to stop you just say no. Ya hear me cowboy," Chris growled. "We talked about this, remember?" Chris asked. Vin nodded stiffly. "Really will help," Chris promised.

Vin sat up pulling the loose shirt off. Isaiah's fingers trembled as they touched the lines and ridges of the scared back.

"Just a hound, Preacher, Don't deserve nothing better," Vin's soft drawl stated. Wordlessly Isaiah began working on the scared back.

"You need to undo your belt. Waist on your pants comes too high for me to work on the worst places," Isaiah finally spoke. Shakily Vin sat up and undid the belt.

"Undo the buttons so Isaiah can reach, Vin," Chris urged. Vin fumbled the buttons loose and laid back down. Calmly Isaiah started working on the painfully knotted muscles. Several soft whimpers came from Vin when Isaiah worked a particularly painful area. Chris chuckled silently when towards the end Vin was making a purring sound as the big hands brought relief. Isaiah gently tucked the blanket over the thin body and stood up with a groan.

"Thanks Isaiah don't think Junior's felt this good in forever," Buck gave a huge grin. "Not as good as loving but mighty fine," Buck teased. A sleepy voice mumbled. "You say something, Junior?" Buck asked.

"Cain't figure why ya like doing tha'," Vin slurred.

"Loving?" Buck asked in surprise. "Feels good, Junior," Buck chuckled.

"Hurts, don't feel good," Vin muttered. Buck frowned and looked at Chris.

"Why's it hurt, Vin?" Buck asked.

"Don't wan'ta talk 'bout it," Vin said sleepily. Very shortly the drugs had taken effect and Vin was out of it.

"Ah, hell," Buck whispered. "What that bastard did to you wasn't loving, Junior," Buck hissed furiously. Chris sadly chewed his cigar butt.

"I saw a dog once looked like that," Isaiah sighed.

"Why'd they do that to him?" JW asked near tears.

"Hell if I know," Chris growled. Buck looked upset. "Buck, you saw him that first night at Nathaniel's," Chris growled.

"Yeah, I saw it," Buck angrily tossed a branch on the fire. Buck looked sadly towards the sleeping hound. _Lord, don't take that boy Chris needs him._.

Vin moved restlessly. Chris rubbed circles on his back calming him like he had a distressed Adam. Vin settled muttering softly. Isaiah frowned as he caught a word. Leaning forward he listened closely. "It's a good dream Chris" Isaiah smiled. "Dreaming about his mother" the preacher explained.


	13. Hunting

13. Hunting

Vin was acting different at dawn. Pacing restlessly, flinching away from any touch. He rode ahead as usual. Almost an hour later they found him kneeling in the trail. A patient Shakespeare stood waiting for the zoned man to remount.

"Shit, he's doing that a lot," JW exclaimed.

Chris dismounted and went to the frozen figure. "Vin, come back now," Chris ordered. The tracker didn't respond at all. The shallow breathing faltered. "Come back now, Vin Tanner," Chris' voice dropped into a slightly deeper soothing range. Chris pulled the man against his chest and began patting his cheeks. "Vin, your scaring me here. We have to catch these fella's remember," Chris' voice rose as his fear built. "You come home. Don't you leave me," Chris' voice broke.

A shiver touched the too still form. "Qwith?" a confused voice asked.

"Welcome back, you scared the shit out of me," Chris admitted petting the thin shoulders.

"I could hear ya," Vin smiled tiredly.

"What happened?" Chris demanded.

"They's drunk. Tried to scan and got lost in tha smells," Vin sighed. "Ya smell good. Kinda like that brown powder what Nathaniel puts on the sugar toast," Vin rambled. The tracker startled them when he pulled Chris' head down and sniffed the side of his neck.

"Cinnamon?" Isaiah raised an eyebrow. Chris flushed as Buck grinned down from his horse.

"Junior looks real comfortable," he teased.

"You just track, no sense stuff," Chris ordered as he helped Vin up.

"Got a problem. Storm's comin' won't be no tracks," Vin explained. "These mountains take 'em a twist. Got a feelin' they'll come out near Baldy's Gulch," Vin stated. "Want to leave this trail take a deer trail over to Mormon Peak and wait fer 'em," Vin explained.

The others exchanged speculative glances. "We'll be ahead of 'em. Won't be playing catch up," Buck said.

"Are you sure they're going that way?" Isaiah asked.

"Yeah," Vin replied.

"But can you find 'em once we get there?" JW asked. Vin nodded with out meeting JW's eyes.

"Your going to hunt aren't you?" Chris demanded.

"Yes," Vin answered.

"You just zoned, remember!" Chris yelled.

"They ain't getting away, Larabee. With or without you. Could use some help," Vin answered.

A clearly furious Chris mounted the black and waited on the tracker. Vin never spoke as he turned off the trail headed south.

"Chris?" Buck asked.

"Can't follow the trail without him," Chris sighed.

"Gonna kill himself," JW argued.

"I know, JW," Chris admitted.

Three hours later the storm hit. The peacekeepers were soaked and chilled as the rain turned to icy particles. The three men closely followed behind the tracker in single file. Eyes straining to see the horse in front of him. How Vin kept to the trail they didn't want to know. Each man took the warnings on staying close to the rock side of the trail seriously. After traveling for another three hours without a break, Vin pulled up.

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The men dismounted and led the horses after the silent man. Surprised, the men looked up realizing the sleet no longer fell. Somewhere Vin had located torches and set them ablaze. Vin was tenderly caring for Ezra's chestnut in the far corner of a good sized cave. Buck's soft laughter echoed in the cavern.

"Handy, ain't he?" Chris agreed. After the horses had been rubbed down, fed and watered from a pool. Vin slid some rails over the entrance of the cave making a corral out of it.

"They's another cave this way," Vin hoarse whisper carried to the others. Carrying their bedrolls and some food the others followed with the torches. The upper cave was smaller a stone fire ring bore testimony to the fact that the cave had been used before. A neat stack of wood against a wall was soon providing a comfortable fire. The cave quickly warmed. Isaiah put a pot of water on for coffee and looked around.

There were three openings. One led to the horses. An old elk skin covered the opening keeping the heat in. The second led outside after a dog leg in the path, another elk skin covered that entrance too. Preventing the wind from reaching them and hiding the light from their fire. A brightly patterned hand woven rug hung over the third opening.

Bedrolls were spread and the men shed wet clothing. Isaiah shook his head in bemusement when Vin provided a cord to hang the wet clothing from. _He sure knows how to make things easier._

"Vin, get out of those wet things before you catch a chill," Chris growled.

Vin picked up one of his blankets and pulled a towel and soap from his saddle bag.

"Water in that pool's awful cold. Things are gonna shrink Junior," Buck teased. Surprised the others stared at the mischievous look on the usually stoic features.

"Ever hear of hot springs?" Vin gave a wicked grin and disappeared through the third opening.

"Hot springs? Hell Junior's gettin' him a hot bath," Buck yelped rooting threw his things searching for his soap.

"Hot water?" JW looked confused.

"Natural hot springs water comes out hot," Isaiah lectured as his bathing gear suddenly appeared.

"You're acting like children," Chris snorted. The embarrassed men shuffled their feet exchanging sheepish looks.

"Damn it, Chris!" Buck yelled as Chris darted through the opening with his towel in hand.

A wild yell and the others charged after. For once JW's small size was beneficial as he squirmed under the wedged Josiah and Buck and hurried down the corridor leaving behind his best friend bellowing. "Traitor, Isaiah, move your dang knee."

The two men finally appeared. Several torches lit the chamber. One edge was open to the storm. Ferns and mosses grew in abundance from the walls.

"It's beautiful," Isaiah sighed.

"Cheyenne say it's a holy place," Vin's raspy whisper responded.

"I can believe that," Buck's voice lowered. Looking around Buck spotted several pools. Chris, JW and Vin were already settled neck deep into the water. "Where'd ya leave yer clothes Junior? I'll hang 'em up for you by the fire," Buck offered.

"Thank ya, Buck. They's on that rock to yer left," Vin answered. Buck returned to find Isaiah in a pool relaxing.

"Thank you, Lord, for the wonders of the world you have provided," the preacher grinned towards the ceiling.

Buck looked at the pools. "They get hotter the closer to that wall, Buck," JW pointed. Buck tested the water moving to another pool.

"Goldilocks's said This'n's to hot. This'ns to cold. Ahh this'ns jus' righ'," Vin's voice teased as Buck finally settled.

"Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Well Chris must be Goldilocks," Buck teased.

"If I'm baby bear does that make Buck, momma bear?" JW asked. The spluttering Wilmington sat listening to the soft laughter.

"Why am I momma bear?" he asked indignantly.

"Because I will pound you into a small greasy spot if you call me Momma," Isaiah's voice carried over lazily.

"Vin's got the curls he must be momma bear," Buck argued.

"Cain't be I'se tha narrirator," Vin smirked.

"Ezra ain't even here and I still get them five dollar words," Buck growled sinking deeper into the water.

Vin scrubbed himself and rinsed off then moved over to a pool closer to the back wall. "You been here before Vin?" JW asked.

"Nah, Blue Fox told me about it," Vin answered.

"An Indian?" JW asked in awe.

"Comanche Medicine Man. He's tha one what taught me ta track. Took me in when I'se jus' a button," Vin answered in a soft drawl.

"You lived with the Comanche? I thought you were raised at the center?" Isaiah asked in surprise.

"Was maybe eleven or so when they took me," Vin eventually answered.

"Will you go back to the Comanche?" JW asked in concern.

"Nobody to go back to," Vin answered without inflection. "When the UNPK was done I'se the only one alive," Vin seemed to be trapped in the memory.

"The UNPK wouldn't have done that," Isaiah snorted.

Vin's haunted eyes lifted. "It happened Preacher. Seen a lot the UNPK don't want ya to know 'bout," Vin shut his eyes tuning the angry man out.

"You're lying!" Isaiah roared sitting up.

Vin opened sad blue eyes. "Wish I was," Vin said softly. Isaiah's tirade cut off as Vin moved in the water and the torch light danced over the scared chest.

"Enough!" Chris' sharp tone cut in. Vin reached over and picked up his towel. Drying his hair he climbed out of the pool. JW paled as the extent of Vin's scars was fully revealed. Drying off quickly Vin wrapped the blanket around him.

"I'll start supper. Take your time," Vin said as he left the chamber.

"They branded him," JW whispered.

"Yeah, kid," Buck agreed.

"Valuable piece of livestock like that. Of course they did. Wouldn't want someone to think he might be human," Chris explained.

Isaiah's troubled eyes lingered on the clearing sky seen through the opening. _Branded, collared, a lab creation the UNPK holds the patents on him. Vin, NO! 'It's" not human, he has no soul, A hound an abomination before God. _

Vin had a meal waiting on them when they came from the pools. Vin stumbled drawing Chris attention. "Vin, lay down your exhausted," Chris ordered.

"I'se fine," Vin responded quickly.

"Vin, you've lost weight. Your color is terrible. LAY DOWN!" Chris ordered sharply. Vin set his jaw and limped to his blanket. Curling up he turned his back to them.

"Are you gonna let him eat, Chris?" Buck asked softly.

"Ah shit!" Chris sighed. Chris took a loaded plate from Buck and walked over to the tracker. "Vin, brought you something to eat," Chris offered. Vin didn't move. "I shouldn't have yelled," Chris admitted. "Nathaniel's gonna be mad if you loose anymore weight," Chris coaxed. Chris sat the plate on the floor in front of Vin. Chris shifted uncomfortably as Vin never responded.

The men were very quiet as they prepared for bed. Chris temper rose as he considered Vin's behavior. The plate remained untouched. _Let him pout then. _Exhaustion soon caught up with the men and sleep claimed them.

JW woke in the night disturb by some noise. Sitting up he listened closely. A bright flash of light lit up the cave, despite the skin over the entrance, closely followed by a roar of thunder. "Wow that was right outside" he exclaimed. "It was lightning" he called as he noted the drawn weapons. Chris, Buck and Isaiah exchanged sheepish looks and lay down.

"Vin,are you OK?," JW called realizing the tracker hadn't reacted to the disturbance. Moving out of his bedroll he approached Vin's blankets carefully. The plate was still untouched. Vin lay his eyes wide open and unblinking. "Buck! I think he zoned," JW called softly.

Chris lay in his blankets trying to ignore JW and Buck's increasingly desperate attempts to wake Vin. Finally unable to stand it any longer Chris rose. "Vin, come back now. You have to find these fellas," Chris reminded as he stroked the tangled curls. Vin suddenly jerked away, knocking JW down. Scrambling up he stood trembling against the wall.

"You zoned, Junior" Buck spoke gently. Vin nodded stiffly. "You're going to get cold. Come back to bed now, Vin," Buck suggested. Vin stood shivering until Buck pulled JW back to his own bedroll then went to his. Chris backed away before Vin would come back to the blankets.

At dawn Vin was up caring for the horses. Buck and JW exchanged frowns when Vin took his plate to a distant corner to eat. Leaving the others by the fire. "Vin, come to the fire it'll keep you warm," Buck coaxed.

"Too much," Vin mumbled.

"You don't have to eat it all, Junior," Buck grinned.

"You hurt me," Vin's voice shook.

"I hurt ya. I never wanted to hurt ya," Buck's big heart ached.

"Senses is all wrong, too much," Vin began to rock holding his head.

"Chris?" Buck asked softly.

"Don't know," Chris sighed. Chris moved quietly towards the tracker speaking softly. Finally the rocking stopped and Vin raised his head.

"Storms breakin' up," he stated. Standing he rolled his blankets and prepared to pull out. Shrugging the others followed suit. Leaving the caverns ready for the next travelers.


	14. Aftermath

14. Aftermath

Chris stayed close as Vin seemed to fade in and out as he searched for the murderers. "They's coming up on tha right," Vin indicated a trail. Quickly Chris organized the deputies and waited for the bank robbers. Buck and JW took rifles and prepared to close the back trail when the trap was sprung. Keeping the thieves on the narrow ledge as Chris and Isaiah held the trail head. Vin was ordered to watch the horses.

"YOU'RE UNDER ARREST!" Chris thundered as the first hat topped the ridge. Cursing and yells greeted the startling announcement.

In a desperate attempt at escape the men forced their way up and into the guns. Isaiah's position was overrun by the panicked horses. Chris stepped out of cover trying to draw fire away from the big preacher. Larabee went down with a bullet in his shoulder. His darkening vision registered the charging Tanner. Deadly accuracy as he moved among them emptying two of the saddles as he went. Buck and JW pulled the still shooting Larabee in to cover. Then began firing into the milling men. Chris screamed as the hound threw himself between a firing weapon and the reloading Isaiah. The limp body shoving Isaiah further into cover.

The fight over Buck was bandaging Chris up cussing him for leaving cover. JW and Isaiah took the two surviving men into custody. "Boy, did Vin have it figured right," JW whistled.

"Isaiah, make sure you check him for knives," Buck warned. "Big red-headed man he's the one that likes to do the cutting," Buck reminded. Isaiah quickly secured and searched the man. While JW guarded him. Chris and Buck covered the blond while they waited.

"Crooked teeth," Isaiah growled while securing and searching the second man. Quickly Isaiah moved through the bodies making certain they were really dead. Making sure everything was secure the preacher went to find Vin.

Somehow he had managed to move back against a shelf of rock propping himself up. "Vin," Isaiah hunkered down reaching for the leather coat.

"Don' bother. 'Preciate it if ya'd leave a gun. When ya ride out," Vin hissed. Isaiah's eyes closed and he nodded.

"JW won't like it," the preacher said.

"Don't matter none. I'se dead already jus' ain't stopped breathin' is all," Vin smiled slightly. Isaiah rose and gently touched Vin's cheek.

"Thank you, Vin Tanner," he whispered turning away.

Buck and JW had managed to load the corpses onto their horses. "Adams, the blond and Franklin, the red head were now mounted. Buck had tied the reins of Adams horse to the tail of Franklin's mount making an escape harder.

"We got to get Chris to Nathaniel. That bullet is still in there. I can't get the bleeding stopped," Buck growled softly to JW and Isaiah.

"Ask Vin he'll know the fastest way back," JW suggested. JW's eyes widened as he looked around the trail head. "Where's Vin?" he demanded.

"He took a bad one son," Isaiah spoke gently.

"We need to take care of him," JW's desperate eyes searched for the tracker. Buck gently squeezed the boy's shoulder. "Would you just leave me?" JW's soft-voiced question slammed into the others. Buck stalked off in the direction that Isaiah indicated.

"Junior?" Buck knelt down.

"Just leave me be," Vin growled.

"Chris needs ya kid," Buck told him.

"Chris?" Vin's eyes cleared for a moment.

"Caught a bullet. Can't get it to stop bleeding it's still in there," Buck explained. "We have to get him to Nathaniel quick," Buck said.

"They's a trail 'bout a mile back that way. Take it down and head due east. Keep looking fer smoke or lights from town in the east," came the painfully hissed words. "Buck it's a mighty rough trail. Most straight down fer over a klick. Twisty as a snake. Have ta tie Chris in tha saddle. Cain't go but single file," Vin tried to give important information.

Buck reached to pull the coat aside.

"Nah, leave it be, Buck," Vin said.

"Damn, Junior," Buck's voice trailed off.

"Take care a Chris," Vin ordered "It's been good, Bucklin".

"I wish...," Buck sighed.

"Was good weren't it?" Vin asked peacefully.

"Yeah it was good, Junior" Buck gritted as he turned away.

"I don't give a damn. I'm not leaving without him," Chris' raised voice carried.

"Chris, keep still you're gonna set this to bleeding again," JW's worried voice raised. Chris was in the saddle. Soon Buck had him tied to his satisfaction.

"Won't fall off now," Buck looked into Chris pain etched features. "Chris, please you're gonna kill yourself," Buck begged. The sheriff was fighting the bindings, his friends and his own failing body trying to get back down.

"I can't leave him behind," Chris snarled.

"Gonna give me a hand here," the gravely voice asked. A white-faced sweaty tracker was leaning against Shakespeare.

"Soon as I get this idiot in the saddle," Buck answered gratefully. "Thank you, Junior," Buck whispered as he wrapped a supporting arm around the thin body.

"Help me up," the gravely voice requested. Buck lifted the tracker into the saddle.

"Let me bandage this. Chris'll rest easier," Buck looked into the trackers face. A silent nod. "Ah shit!" Buck exclaimed softly pulling the coat back seeing the wound for the first time. Buck gently bandaged the seeping wound and stepped back.

"'s alrigh' Buck," the dying man smiled gently. Vin shivered as Buck tied him to the saddle. Looking around Vin headed towards the trail.

"Good grief, this ain't no trail this here's a dang goat track," Buck blanched as Vin headed down the narrow way. "JW, you ride back here with Chris if the horses with the bodies don't follow forget 'em. Isaiah, you ride behind them two. If they make a break for it shoot 'em down for they run Vin and me down. They ain't gonna be able ta double back any way." Buck moved out after the swaying tracker.

Buck paled as his right foot hung out over the open air as he followed the tracker down the mountain face. Two hours later they reached open land. "What color's my hair?" Buck asked JW as they eased the unconscious Larabee out of the saddle.

"Black like always why?" JW asked.

"Figured it was snow white after coming down that shelf," Buck's voice was shaky.

"I would have walked, brothers, if there had been room to get off my horse," Isaiah smiled weakly.

Buck gently cut the tracker free and lifted him out of the saddle. Blood slicked the saddle and most of his left pants leg. "Qwith?" Vin lisped tiredly.

"Still with us, Junior," Buck soothed. Cradling the tracker close he moved to a rock shelf. Gently he lay the tracker down.

"Build a travois fer Chrith. Go due eatht. Ya kin thee tha thmoke er the lighth a town," Vin choked out. JW came and sat down while Isaiah and Buck moved Chris to the travois.

"Vin," JW tried.

"It were good JW. Walked free fer a while. You don' worry none," Vin comforted.

"Can I get you something?" JW asked sadly. Vin shook his head slightly.

"Vin?" Chris called. "Dammit you scruffy tracker where the hell are you?" Chris' pained voice rose. Vin struggled to his feet. JW almost carried the determined Tanner over.

"Shut up, Larabee, I'se busy," Vin gritted.

"You all right?" the feverish man demanded.

"I'se fine. You rest, stop makin' trouble," Vin growled. Isaiah arrived just as Vin lost consciousness.

"Lay him here," Chris ordered indicating a spot beside him.

"Chris," Isaiah sighed.

"I know, Isaiah, but I'm takin' him home if I have to carry him on my back. Wouldn't leave you. Won't leave him," Chris snarled. Buck never spoke just rebandaged both men and led the group due east.

Chris' voice rose and fell as he coaxed, soothed and threatened the tracker. Somehow Vin had turned to rest his head on Chris chest. Chris' hand was pulled close to his face. Chris continually stroked the soaked curls or petted his shoulder.

"Don't know why you're wasting your time," Adams laughed. Buck's fist rocked the man in the saddle. Ten hours latter the exhausted Buck smiled as the lights of town glowed in the darkness. "You hang on," he ordered as the travois passed his still figure.

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Ezra's shout brought Nathaniel running. A worn exhausted group staggered into town. Shakespeare nickered softly as he stopped next to Ezra. "Lord,help me. Take 'em to the clinic now!" Nathaniel ordered.

Ezra helped Buck jail the prisoners. JW left the four bodies with the undertaker and led the horses to the stables. For once he left the care of his horse and those of his friends to the livery agent. Hurriedly he rushed to the clinic. Ezra was left to guard the prisoners.

Nathaniel's soft curses were the only words in the silent clinic as he worked on Chris. Isaiah assisted holding the gunman down. Sighs of relief as the bullet clinked into the basin. Gently the wound was bandaged and Chris was settled on a cot.

"Stubborn should have died hours ago," Nathaniel spoke gently to the feverish tracker. "You're fighting, I won't quit neither. Let's see what I can do," Nathaniel ordered. Getting the Tracker into surgery he examined the wound. "Stomach was hit. Been leaking into his abdomen all this time. Peritonitis, got pneumonia here goes." Three hours later Vin lay in a cot next to the gunman.

"I don't know," Nathaniel snapped as the questions began. "Go get cleaned up, eat, get some sleep. I'll know more in the morning," Nathaniel barked.

At first light Buck relieved Ezra at the jail. The gambler quietly entered the clinic. "Made it through the night," Nathaniel answered the unspoken question. "Don't know, honestly I'm not sure how he made it this long," Nathaniel spoke quietly.

"Vin," Chris' raspy voice called.

"Right beside you, Mr. Larabee," Ezra indicated the other bed.

"He'll get lost. To far away," Chris fretted.

Ezra frowned then nodded. "Of course, Nathaniel, help me move Vin's bed," Ezra directed.

"Don't make no sense," Nathaniel mumbled as he helped shift the cot right next to Chris'. "Chris leave him be," Nathaniel fussed as Chris pulled at the unconscious tracker.

"He's zoning on the pain," Chris gasped as his stitches pulled. Nathaniel stared down at a total loss.

"How may we assist you?" Ezra offered.

"Need to hold him," Chris panted.

"You lay still," Nathaniel growled. Gently Nathaniel and Ezra lifted Vin into Chris arms. Once more the tracker's head rested over Chris heart. "I'll be, he's breathing better," Nathaniel grinned. Chris eyes closed and Vin seemed to snuggle closer.

"We're gonna be OK, Nathaniel," Chris' voice was strong.


	15. Healing

15. Healing

Vin was once more settled in the clinic recovering from the disastrous manhunt. Nathaniel was still amazed that he not only survived the belly wound, but he was recovering amazingly fast. Nathaniel had discovered an herbal recipe in Sandburg's writings. A natural antibiotic that Vin was able to keep down. Once it started working the peritonitis cleared quickly. The pneumonia took longer to respond but the addition of an herbal decongestant soon had it cleared up.

Vin was miserable being 'nekid'. He was always asking for clothing. Nathaniel continually refused fearing that the pull of a waistband would tear the healing injury open. The tracker suffered regularly through horrible nightmares. Despite gentle prodding from the others, Vin was silent on the subject.

One morning Isaiah was amused as once again one of his shirts had managed to find its way into the 'ladies' under things. Poor Mrs. Adams was horrified when Isaiah wordlessly returned the bloomers in exchange for the shirt. Chuckling softly he put the garment away. The soft floral scent triggered a memory.

Clearing it with Nathaniel first, Isaiah walked into the clinic with the shirt over his arm. Vin was still horribly weak. They raised him up supported against Chris so that Isaiah could carefully slip the shirt over the thin youngster. Vin struggled to hide the tears welling in his eyes as he patted the soft cotton. Isaiah was touched by how a simple shirt could affect the tracker so deeply. What was the most rewarding for Isaiah -- the nightmares stopped.

The shirt added a waiflike air to the all too capable Tanner. Buck teased the tracker continually. Prompting the others to spring to his defense. Vin began to interact with the deputies more. All because of a simple shirt.

Isaiah began to actively seek Vin out now, spending long hours in the clinic. Playing chess, reading or simply spending time with the peaceful man. The others were spending much of their free time with Vin too. Isaiah watched as the individuals grew closer more protective of each other.

_We've become a family. Buck was JW's big brother right from the start. We all protected JW to some extent, but now the rest of us have become family too. Ezra even seems more settled. Is this Vin's doing? I think that Chris and Vin have bonded_. _I always thought such a thing was sinful. I can't find this closeness between them to be a sin. It's like they finish each other. What kind of life is the boy going to have? I can't see it being anything close to normal. He's always going to be in danger of being retaken by the UNPK._

Court was in session and the others were either testifying against Adams and Franklin or providing security for the court, when the UNPK Captain arrived in town. Asking questions, the officer walked over to the clinic after Yosemite at the livery suggested Nathaniel might not be involved with the court.

Hearing the unfamiliar footsteps, Vin slid the mare's leg under his blanket and waited. At the knock he called "Door ain't locked," his hand tightened on the weapon as the hated uniform walked into the room. Calming himself he studied the mature features of the captain. A humorous glint danced in the dark brown eyes. Vin relaxed as he studied the man.

"Nathaniel Jackson?" the captain asked with a frown.

"Nah, Doc's in court" Vin answered. "I'se too skinny, a lot to short, and way to pale," Vin stated.

"Captain John Snelling," the agent introduced himself.

"Vin Tanner," Vin struggled to sit up.

"Whoa, lay still there," Snelling ordered moving quickly to the bedridden man.

"Nate lets me sit up some now," Vin assured. Frowning Snelling offered an arm assisting Vin to sit up. The Captain slid several pillows behind Vin's back to support him.

"You're a cautious man," Snelling noted as Vin lay the mare's leg on the table beside him.

"I'se still breathin'," Vin answered lightly. "Feels better," Vin sighed as he settled back. "They's holdin' court over at the saloon. Ya kin catch Nate there or soon as he's done he'll come here and give me hell. Make me drink cat pee," Vin growled.

Snelling chuckled at the feisty youngster, dressed in a shirt big enough to cover both of them. "If you don't mind I'll wait," Snelling decided.

"Grab a seat," Vin gestured to a chair.

"You play?" Snelling asked looking at the chess set.

"Learning," Vin admitted.

"A game while we wait?" Snelling asked. The board was set and play began. Vin gasped and gritted his teeth at a careless motion. Looking up he nodded shakily at Snelling.

"Moved to sudden's all," Vin sighed.

"What happened?" Snelling waved a hand towards the bedridden tracker.

"Capt'n folks out here is a might shy of answering questions," Vin warned.

Snelling sat back with a frown "Why?".

"Most folks out here got 'em a past or some such to send 'em out in to the outlands," Vin answered softly. "Folks take note of now. Yer past is gone don't matter none. Here ya got a chance at a new life," Vin explained. Snelling nodded thoughtfully. "Got mah fool self shot," Vin flashed a half smile.

"What?" Snelling blinked in confusion.

"Yah asked what happened," Vin teased.

Snelling was chuckling at a story Vin was telling. The tracker's off center view of things appealed to the captain. Rapid heavy footsteps approached. "Isaiah Sanchez," Vin stated just as the door sprang open. Captain Snelling studied the huge threatening man in the doorway.

"Yer lettin' in a draft, preacher," Vin growled softly. Isaiah glowered at the UN officer. "This here's Capt'n Snelling. He's waitin' fer Nate," Vin introduced. Isaiah nodded and walked in closing the door. More footsteps thundered to the door. "JW Dunne," Vin sighed "'saiah, kin ya head him off. He's been in court all day. He'll wear me out bouncing offen tha walls," Isaiah chuckled heading out the door. "Rekin court's over," Vin sighed. Jingling footsteps "This'ns Larabee". Chris scowled as he entered. The cold glare sent a chill down Snelling's spine. Straightening he stood and introduced himself. A tall black man rushed in pushing Larabee out of his way.

"Ya idjiit how long ya been sitting up?" He growled noting the pallid features and the shaky hands.

"Ah hell," Vin groaned softly.

"You told me the Doctor let you sit up," Snelling snapped.

"He does," Vin snarled "Still got me three minutes left".

"OK you drink some tea 'fore we lay you down. I give it to you before you sit up for a reason," Nathaniel fussed. Vin wrinkled his nose and swallowed down the obnoxious tea.

"Tastes like cat pee," Vin grouched.

"You drink much cat pee so's ya know?" Nathaniel chuckled.

"We'll finish the game later," Snelling offered.

"Nah, it's checkmate in two," Vin's lips twitched. Snelling stared at the board.

"Just learning?" he snorted.

"Sixty-one days," Chris replied. Snelling waited for an explanation.

"Vin learned to play sixty-one days ago," Isaiah snickered to the dumbfounded Snelling.

"Amazing," Snelling admitted as he watched Chris settle Vin back in bed. _A brother?_

"Best let him sleep," Chris growled.

"Certainly I never intended to harm him," Snelling said in honest concern.

"He just tires easy," Chris waved towards the door.


	16. Investigating

16. Investigating

The two men walked down to the jail. "Sheriff, I'm with Internal Affairs. I'm here to investigate the situation that occurred concerning Sgt. Eli Hinkley," Snelling explained. Chris had a cold controlled look on his face. "It will be necessary for me to conduct interviews of several people. It would help immensely if you were to support me in this," Snelling requested waiting patiently.

"What do you want me to do?" Chris finally asked.

"First I need to locate certain witnesses," Snelling looked embarrassed. "Mr. Tanner informed me that people out here are less willing to speak then my usual witnesses," Snelling spoke in some concern.

"Captain, where are you headed with this investigation?" Chris asked.

"Sheriff?" Snelling frowned.

"Are you covering the UNPK's ass or are you honestly investigating," Chris demanded.

"Mr. Larabee, if Hinkley was dirty I want to know. His supervisor, Quinn Lee, is I've been trying to get enough evidence to convict him the last few months," Snelling rubbed his temples.

Chris studied the man for several long moments. Chris poured two cups of coffee and sat down with a sigh. "Hinkley was scum," Chris stated bluntly.

Snelling drummed his fingers a moment, then nodded. Opening a notebook he began to write as Chris talked. Two hours later Snelling lay down his pen with a grimace.

"The man was worse then the criminals he was sent to hunt down. What a mess," Snelling rubbed the bridge of his nose his head obviously aching. "A hound killed him?" the shocked officer asked.

"Broke his neck," Chris answered in a low growl.

"Hounds don't kill. Hinkley must have been completely insane," Snelling admitted. "I would like to get some affidavits, Mrs. Potter, the Tuell family, Miss Lucy, Miss Blossom, your deputies, the saloon workers and employees of the Simmon's ranch. What do you suggest, Sheriff?" Snelling seemed seriously interested in Chris' suggestion.

"Talk to 'em at home or work. Let them talk that way you'll get more information. It's probably against your principles, but the ladies at the brothel won't talk in public. Buy an hour and ask Miss Lilly if you can use her sitting room," Chris suggested. "Snelling," Chris smirked.

"Yes, Sheriff," Snelling frowned.

"The ladies are still holding worthless script from Hinkley. The sign at the door says "In God we trust. Mortals pay cash," Chris growled.

Snelling grinned "I got it cash only".

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Late the next afternoon Chris watched as Snelling marched towards the jail. The man was obviously infuriated. Stomping in he lowered himself into a chair and glared at the desktop.

"Problem, John?" Chris asked the man as he poured coffee.

"I wish I could dig him up so I could kill him," Snelling exclaimed.

"Hinkley?" Chris asked.

"Yes, what happened here was bad. The man's whole record is full of a series of such behavior. He arrested people who had done less. They let that degenerate have three, three mind you hounds. There's less then a thousand hounds in the world and he gets three of them killed," Snelling fumed.

"A thousand?" Chris asked in a startled tone. "Why are they all a Denver Center?" he asked in surprise.

"They aren't there's only a hundred and sixty in North America. Ten to each zone," Snelling explained.

"There's more than sixty hounds at Denver," Chris growled.

"You're sure?" Snelling asked.

"Oh yeah," Chris declared.

Snelling looked very troubled. "Hounds are territorial as hell. Ten's as large a pack as we allow at any one location," Snelling explained.

"Then tell me how Hinkley got three out of the ten?" Chris demanded.

Snelling frowned "May be they weren't hounds?" he suggested. "This hound what was he like?" Snelling asked.

"Shorter then me, thin I think. Hard to tell under all that cloak. Hell could have been a female for all I could tell," Chris described.

"That's all?" Snelling asked.

"Hinkley kept him hooded and veiled. Had slender wrists and hands," Chris shrugged. Snelling blinked and looked out the window towards the clinic. Snelling turned a disbelieving look towards Larabee. Chris stared silently back.

"This is worse than I thought. Slavery is illegal I KNOW there can't be sixty hounds at Denver. I'll be back in a couple of months. If there's trouble radio Cascade and ask for Joel Taggert," Snelling stood and offered Chris his hand.

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Watching as Snelling got on the early stage the next morning Chris ordered Buck to get everyone over to the clinic. The seven men were gathered Ezra grumbled and moaned at the early hour but he was there.

"Snelling was snooping. He's going to be back," Chris told them. "Vin, you've got the most to lose here," Chris turned to the tracker.

"Figure I'll tell him," Vin offered "Ya'll be better off iffen ya turn me in". "He didn't read like them others maybe he really does want ta help," Vin grunted.

"I must concur, Capt. Snelling maybe an honorable man," Ezra drawled.

"I couldn't help but like him, Chris," Buck admitted.

"Then were going to tell him when he comes back," JW muttered. Chris nodded in agreement.


	17. Visit to the Past

17. Visit to the Past

Vin was up and around much faster than anyone would have believed. "Good job, Nate," Chris indicated the tracker playing marbles with JW and several of the town's children.

"Chris, he was all but dead. I just sewed the holes up. He did the rest," Nate sighed. "When you were both so sick ... You two bonded didn't you?" Nate asked in concern.

"Yeah, we bonded," Chris admitted. Nathaniel had an uncomfortable look on his face. "It isn't like that, Nate," Chris almost smiled at Nathaniel' surprised look.

"I thought that's how hounds ...," Nate trailed off in embarrassment.

"That's something else the hunters lied about," Chris stated. Chris trailed off trying to find words to explain the unique bond. "You know that numb feeling when your foot goes to sleep and then the tingly feeling when it wakes up?" Chris asked. Nathaniel nodded with a frown. "Part of me has been asleep my whole life. Vin woke something inside up. He'll die without me now," Chris stated in complete certainty.

"Sounds interesting," Nate decided.

"Scary as hell," Chris corrected.

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"Mr. Larabee would it be convenient for me to leave for several weeks at this time?" Standish asked as he went on duty one afternoon.

"If you need it take it," Chris told him.

"I need to retrieve certain possessions," Ezra seemed uncomfortable.

"Go on, Ez, things are pretty calm right now." Chris urged.

"I will begin my journey on tomorrow's stage then," Ezra nodded.

"Come and have dinner with everyone tonight," Chris ordered.

"As you will, Mr. Larabee," Standish teased.

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Ezra returned twelve days later with a heavy trunk in his possession that he locked into an empty cell temporarily.

"Ez is back!" JW yelled and hurried over to meet the gambler. Ezra was surprised at the greeting he received from his fellow lawmen.

"Where's Mr. Tanner?" Ezra asked in concern.

"He rode south on Sunday said he'd be back in twenty days," Isaiah explained.

"Is that wise?" Ezra blurted.

"Maybe not," Chris sighed "but he needs to know that he's free to go."

"Of course, I spoke thoughtlessly," Ezra looked contrite.

"What's in the trunk?" JW asked boyishly.

"Something for Mr. Tanner," Ezra smiled.

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Vin was greeted by the rest of the peacekeepers as he rode in. "Well if it isn't the prodigal returned to us," Isaiah growled. Vin blinked as he was pulled out of the saddle and hugged tightly.

"No," Vin cried, his voice filled with pain.

"Sorry, son, didn't mean to squeeze so tight," Isaiah rumbled.

"Vin?" Chris asked as he studied drawn, pale features. His voice dropped into a softer tone as the tracker flinched at the blacksmith's hammer.

"Been away too long," Vin whispered. JW took Vin's dun and started for the livery silently.

"JW, thanks, kin ya bring mah saddlebags when ya come?" Vin asked softly.

"Sure, Vin," JW whispered.

"I ain't sick," Vin growled as he was dragged to the clinic.

The completely humiliated tracker was stripped and put in a steaming tub of water. He was scrubbed thoroughly and his hair washed. Every time he started to complain Isaiah stuffed a loaded fork in his mouth. Shortly the confused tracker was dried, brushed, freshly shaved and dressed in Isaiah's old shirt. Nathaniel had given him a back rub and now he was propped up in bed.

"We missed ya," JW laughed at the bewildered tracker. Chris settled on the bed as Vin unashamedly pulled him down to bond. Taunt features relaxed as the link soothed the raw nerves of both men. The deputies calmly ate dinner and started a poker game.

"Missed ya too," Vin sighed

"Junior, how old are you?" Buck demanded.

"I never saw Brother Vin clean shaven before," Isaiah frowned.

"Ain't sure," Vin replied. Vin pushed the blanket back and swung his legs around.

"You lay there. What is it you want?" Nathaniel growled.

"Mah saddle bags them with tha beadwork," Vin answered. The bags were dropped into his lap shortly. "Hid this when tha hunters come after Blue Fox's folks," Vin reached in and pulled out a battered harmonica. "Cain't really 'member Pa but this was his," he showed Chris his treasure. A long thin braid of red-gold hair was wrapped in an unfinished embroidery sampler. "Was Ma's. She died for she could finish it. She'd sit in tha chair and sew while she let me brush her hair. Would brush tha floor it was sa long," Vin reminisced. The blue eyes lost focus as he stroked the braid. "Kin still smell tha violets," he whispered. Troubled looks crossed faces unable to offer comfort to the grieving man.

"Momma always smelled like roses and soap," JW said gently as he touched the braid with a finger.

"Magnolia, Mother always smells of magnolia," Ezra offered.

"Jasmine," Buck had a soft look in his eyes.

"Lilly of the Valley," Isaiah sighed softly.

"Lilac, my momma loved the lilac," Nathan spoke.

"Vanilla, Sarah was Vanilla," Chris reminisced. "My mom always smelled of clover," Chris chuckled. "Adam was born before I discovered why," Curious looks from the others had Chris finishing the story. "There were seven of us kids. The only private place on the whole farm was...," Chris stopped when Buck burst out laughing. "In the hayloft," he finished. "Embarrassed the hell out of me Every time I fed the horses for a while after that," Chris admitted. "A man's mother isn't suppose to do that kind of thing," Chris blushed.

"Chris, there were seven of you. Did you think she found you all under cabbage leaves," Isaiah pointed out.

Vin lifted out a beautifully embroidered baby gown, bonnet and blanket. "A christening gown," Isaiah smiled as he took the fragile garments. A worn Bible was removed next. Ezra gently took the old book and opened it.

"Blair James Tanner married Sarah Rain Standish on May 8, 2051," Ezra read the first entry. Ezra read aloud through a list of births, christenings, weddings and deaths. "Jefferson Christopher Tanner married Emma Rose Chadwick on June 5, 2212. Devin Jefferson Tanner son of Jefferson Christopher and Emma Rose Tanner, born March 15, 2213,"

Ezra handed Chris several heavy certificates with a huge dimpled smile. "A wedding certificate for Jefferson and Emma Rose. Along with a birth certificate and record of baptism for Devin," Ezra stated.

"Do you know what this means Vin?" Ezra asked.

"No, Bible was Ma's," Vin frowned in confusion.

"This is legal proof that you were not born in a kennel. They took you illegally. The UNPK enslaved a citizen," Ezra explained. Vin's eyes widened as he looked at the papers.

"We have two problems." Isaiah threw a damper on the excitement. "Number one, we have to prove that Vin is Devin Jefferson Tanner. Number two, he's only seventeen and is legally a minor," Isaiah reminded.


	18. Teaching the Tracker

18. Teaching the Tracker

They were chasing down some rustlers. Ezra, Chris and Vin were in one group. Buck, JW and Isaiah in the second. Nathaniel had chosen to remain behind with a patient.

Ezra and Chris halted as Vin threw up his hand in a stop gesture. Chris eased back to Ezra. "Keep your eyes open," Vin rode some two hundred feet forward and stopped raising his rifle over his head with both hands. Turning his pony slowly from side to side he allowed the beaded and fringed rifle cover to be seen clearly. Lowering his weapon Vin waited.

Sudden tension as several deerskin clad figures appeared out of the brush. "Hold," Vin called calmly. Low voice murmurs between Vin and the 'Indians.' One man disappeared into the brush. Vin slid out of the saddle waiting.

A tall ancient old man walked calmly into the trail. A blanket was spread and he sat down. Vin was waved forward. Vin sat down and lay his rifle to his left and waited. A conversation began in a mix of halting English, Sign, and Spanish. Soon it was speeding along as they discovered a language in common.

Ezra looked shocked as soft laughter broke out among the serious 'Indians,' a people well known for keeping a blank face towards outsiders. A young warrior probably in his mid-teens walked back to the gunslinger and the gambler. "Owl Speaker wishes to talk with the Guardian's Shaman," he looked up at Chris. "Bring the watcher too, Man who hunts Shadows,"

"Owl Speaker here wants ta know, if ya'll allow his folks ta stay here in tha mountains," Vin translated for the two men.

"Forgive me, old one, I don't know your people," Chris politely avoided eye contact with the elder.

"A,h we are of the people that you call Crow, Grandson," the old man slowly answered.

"How 'bout it, Vin?" Chris asked.

"They'll stay up here, won't be bothering the ranchers and such. It's a mighty hard life. Full of shining times though," Vin looked at Chris calmly.

"I hold most of fifty miles of mountain country a day's ride to the north. You're welcome to stay there. I have some horses running wild up there so if you all would keep an eye on 'em for me," Chris offered.

"We will talk of this in council. I thank you for your offer," Owl Speaker answered. "Falcon says you search for horse thieves. Two days south we saw those you seek.

The location and the members of the rustlers were identified. "Definitely not Misters Wilmington, Dunne and Sanchez," Ezra acknowledged.

"Gonna go fer meat. Ya'll play nice," Vin ordered as he disappeared into the brush.

"Come," Owl Speaker indicated the two peacekeepers follow. They broke through brush into a hidden valley where the lodges were set up.

Chris and Ezra were amazed at how openly the small group of children approached them. Chris was soon sitting with his belongings around him as the children cared for their horses and set up camp for them. The two men were handed heavily loaded plates. The children were laughing and playing openly as they waited for the men to eat. Ezra was trying to talk with the bright eyed youngsters and soon discovered their French was excellent.

"It doesn't make sense, Ezra. These folks wouldn't trust their children around strangers," Chris growled. Ezra spoke with the children for several minutes.

"We're with the guardian-warrior-he who protects. So we are not considered strangers. You belong to the Guardian," Ezra flashed his gold tooth at Chris.

"Guardian?" Chris asked.

"Mr. Tanner. Somehow they know he is a Sentinel," Ezra told Chris.

The children were enchanted as Ezra did slight-of-hand tricks for them. Chris discovered he was 'Shadow Wolf' and Ezra was 'Fox Brother' to the children. Vin returned with a mule deer slung over his horse. The women descended on him removing the carcass and teasing the shy tracker.

Vin settled down by the fire with Chris and Ezra. The children began climbing over the Sentinel. Wrestling and squealing when Vin played grizzly for them. They rolled tumbled and played with the gentle man. Chris sat forward as one of the children bumped his head.

"Calm Shaman that one is perfectly safe. They are under the Falcon's wings," Owl Speaker sat down. "The Guardian is very young." Owl Speaker said softly. Chris nodded. Ezra spoke in French a moment. "You do not understand your place in the Guardian's life Shaman. You are the path. You lead him home. The young one was caged?" Owl Speaker asked.

"Yes," Chris agreed.

"They harmed him deeply," Owl Speaker noted.

"I don't know how to guide him," Chris sighed.

"Your heart knows. Guides are born to their duty as are the true born such as your Vin. Has he lain down with a woman?" the old man asked gently. Chris grunted.

"It makes a difference, Guide. He will need you to keep him here now," Owl Speaker smiled at the blush that rose in the men's cheeks.

"You seem to know too damn much about it," Chris muttered.

"I lost my Sentinel long ago," the old man raised haunted eyes. "You're never completely alone," he warned. "We ask if the Guardian would honor my people." Owl Speaker changed the subject. Chris and Ezra exchanged glances

"Honor in what way?" Chris asked softly. Owl Speaker responded with a word they didn't understand. Seeing the confused looks Owl Speaker pointed towards a mare and stallion.

"I believe the gentleman is asking Vin to procreate," Ezra choked.

"A baby?" Chris crossed his arms and rocked them like he was holding a infant.

"Yes," Owl Speaker nodded.

"That would have to be Vin's decision," Chris growled.

"Speak with him for us," the old man suggested. Ezra exchanged a glance with Chris and shrugged.

"Vin," Chris called. Vin left the children and sat down by his guide. "Vin, Owl Speaker's people want you to do something for them," Chris shifted uncomfortably. Vin frowned as he picked up on the tension. "They want you to make a baby with one of their widows," Chris blurted. Vin paled and pulled back. "Easy, Cowboy, remember what I told you," Chris calmed.

Vin whispered "Nobody kin touch me less I let 'em."

"That's right, Vin," Chris promised.

Owl Speaker spoke. Vin frowned as he stared into the fire. Owl Speaker rose silently and left.

"They will understand whatever you decide, Vin," Ezra spoke softly.

"I could try maybe," Vin whispered.

"You could try. Nobody'd be mad if you change your mind," Chris suggested.

"Vin, forget before. Could you be happy with a baby of yours living among the Crow," Ezra asked.

"They's good people. "Make things easier on these folks in a few years. They got lots of stories 'bout Guardians, folks borned like me are greatly honored amongst 'em," Vin sighed.

"If I guard your back. Stay right outside the lodge," Chris promised. Vin ran trembling hands through his hair.

"Vin, nobody owns you. This has to be your decision," Ezra stated.

Vin raised determined eyes. "How do I do this?" Vin asked. Startled eyes locked onto the embarrassed tracker.

"You're the guide, Mr. Larabee," Ezra smirked. "I need to stretch my legs," Ezra snickered as he left the two men by the fire.

Chris led Vin to Owl Speaker. "Old man was a guide," Chris said. "We'll find out how he got his Sentinel through this," Chris smiled gently rubbing Vin's tense shoulder. After talking to Owl Speaker for a while the somewhat calmed Vin followed Chris into the distantly set lodge.

Chris breathed a sigh of relief as the two women treated Vin with great gentleness. They served a meal and gently teased the two men. Chris shed his shirt allowing the woman to massage his back. A nervous Vin finally took off his shirt and lay on the furs. Thirty minutes later Laughing Heart the widow chosen for Vin had managed to get the youngster's clothes and was massaging the constantly aching muscles in the small of Vin's back. _Cowboy's gonna go to sleep if they get him any more relaxed._ Chris thought sleepily as he relaxed under Wind Dancer's talented fingers.


	19. It's a Beautiful Morning

19. It's a Beautiful Morning

The Morning After

Riding out of the Crow village at first light, the gambler was amazingly silent. Chris was actually whistling softly as he rode leading the dun gelding, now carrying a pack of assorted food stuffs, and beautifully worked doeskin garments for Vin. Vin was riding beside them this morning. He was wearing new doeskin pants, a bright blue shirt and multi-hued bandanna under a heavy elk leather coat. He was riding an ill natured black stallion, which seemed to be mostly mountain goat. All gifts to the Guardian from the Crow.

"Mr. Tanner seems very peaceful this morning," Ezra spoke his dimples flashing. "I presume your lecture on the birds and bees was effective," the gambler teased.

"Yep," Chris winked. Color rose into the tracker's cheeks under the amused gaze of the two men. Vin snorted slightly and flashed a real grin.

"More of a case of show and tell," Vin laughed softly. Chris shifted uncomfortably under Ezra's speculative perusal. "Ya shoulda took a bath, Ez," Vin winked at the flustered gambler. "Sure smell like tha' light skinned gal," Vin continued.

Chris burst out in delighted laughter as Ezra blushed.

"Good heavens," Ezra whispered.

A thoughtful look crossed Vin's face as he sniffed deeply. A strange smile crossed Vin's face "Well I'll be," he whispered softly "Did ya notice Ezra's gal had them dark blue eyes just like Buck." Ezra spluttered genuinely dismayed. "Reckin she's nineteen give er take," Vin teased "Smells like Buck only womanly."

"Would make Buck sixteen when she was born," Chris noted. "Could be," Chris chuckled as Ezra seemed to have trouble breathing.

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That evening they joined Buck, JW and Isaiah. The three men already had captured the rustlers and were heading back to Four Corners. "Bout time you three showed up. The job's done," Buck said.

"Yep," Chris smiled cheerfully. Buck stared after the smiling man in black. Ezra was amazingly quiet and only gave a smile when questioned. Vin was slouched comfortably in the saddle. Questions tumbled through Wilmington's mind as he tried to puzzle out the men's unusual behavior.

"Wow, have you ever seen Chris smile like that," JW gasped.

"Them three's up ta something," Buck growled.

Isaiah's eyes strayed to a tell tale mark on Ezra's neck. Turning to say something to Buck his eyes widened as Chris's neck was revealed when the collar on his duster moved. Shocked he looked over at the tracker. Vin's lips twitched as he pulled his bandanna up to cover the tell tale marks on his own neck. Deep laughter burst from Sanchez.

"Boys' have had all the starch taken out of 'em," Buck grumbled.

"Mellow, they're mighty mellow, Brother Buck," Isaiah laughed into Vin's twinkling eyes.

"Don't make no sense. Only thing I know of that could effect them like this is ... Hell, there ain't no women out this way. Ole Buck would know," Buck glared at the amused men.

"Rekin he's right," Vin nodded seriously as he took point. Chris and Ezra laughed openly at Buck speculative look.

"Chris where'd ya find women up in these mountains," Buck demanded as he pulled his friends collar to the side examining the 'injuries'.

"Buck, leave me alone feel mighty peaceful, hate to shoot you might ruin my mood," Chris chuckled riding after Vin.

"Ah come on, Chris, this is yer old friend Buck. Where'd ya find the women?" Buck pestered Chris as he rode after him.


	20. Heartache

20. Heartache

Vin seemed quieter than normal. Rarely speaking to anyone. "You've hurt him bad," Buck acknowledged Chris' worried look as they watched Vin cross the street to avoid some townfolk.

"He won't let me touch him at all now," Chris sighed.

"Has he talked to you?" Buck asked.

"Not hardly," Chris muttered. Chris dropped his chair to all fours as he watched Vin freeze then dart into the alley.

"What's wrong?" Buck demanded.

"Something sure set Vin off," Chris growled. Chris scanned the street searching for the disturbance. The raised voices had Buck and Chris racing to the disturbance.

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Vin knelt gently examining the little girl's eye. "Best let Mr. Nate look at this Sunshine," Vin suggested. The child never spoke or cried. Billy Travis looked belligerent as he stood by his furious mother's side. Simon and Ben Tuell looked angry as they glared at Billy.

"What's the problem?" Buck asked as he sauntered up.

"That creature threatened my son," Mary attacked.

"He hit Sunshine and called her names," Vin muttered.

"He...ck, Vin, kids fight sometimes," Buck laughed.

"He weren't playin'. Was sayin' some real ugly things. Buck he's a good two year older and near eight inches taller. She were tryin' ta git away," Vin sighed as he picked the silent child up and carried her towards the clinic.

Chris frowned and looked at the group. "Billy, what happened?" Chris asked quietly.

"Simon, Ben and me was playing and she was bothering us," Billy answered.

"She tore up your toys?" Chris asked with a frown.

"She was just bothering us," Billy muttered.

"She hit you?" Buck asked softly.

"No," Billy answered.

"How'd Vin threaten you?" Chris growled watching Mary fume.

"He said he should turn Simon and Ben loose so they could whip my ...," Billy trailed off darting a look at his mother.

"He cursed in front of impressionable children," Mary barked.

"Seems ta me, Mrs. Travis, you should be more concerned about Billy hitting on smaller kids," Buck grunted.

"She ain't nothing but trash her momma's a wh—," Billy defended his actions.

Buck straightened glaring down at the boy.

"Billy, I'll wash your mouth out with soap," Mary gasped.

"Well she is you said so yourself. 'Lizbeth a bast–d ain't fit to play with decent children. She deserves anything that happens to her," Billy frowned up at his mother.

Buck turned his back trying to suppress his temper. "Simon, what happened?" Buck asked.

"We were playing and 'lizabeth came by. Billy was mad cause Ben beat him at marbles. So Billy called her names. 'lizabeth tried to run. She couldn't run fast enough. Billy chased her, knocked her down and hit her. He had her pinned down if Vin hadn't come he'd have hit her more. Vin wouldn't let Ben and me whoop Billy," Simon answered.

"Is that what happened, Ben?" Chris asked.

"Yes, sir. Billy always hits her if he gets a chance," Ben looked scared. "I told Mrs. Travis 'bout it before. She said it weren't nothin' more'n she deserved. That 'lizabeth should stay where she belongs," Ben whispered.

Chris went to one knee in front of Billy. "Billy, it was wrong to act like this. There's a name for someone who acts like you did. It's called a bully," Chris told the child.

"She's just a little bas---d, Momma says," Billy argued. Buck and Chris looked at Mary expecting her to correct the child.

"Billy, a gentleman doesn't use that kind of language," Mary ordered.

"I reckon your right, Mrs. Travis. Billy a fine decent child like you shouldn't have to associate with such folks," Chris agreed. "Ben, you and Simon go ask your momma if you can go fishing with Buck and me in the morning," Chris directed. "Mrs. Travis, Billy have a nice day," Chris tipped his hat and headed down the alley.

"How come Sherriff Chris didn't invite me?" Billy wailed.

"Wel,l Mr. Travis, I expect that's 'cause you shouldn't be associating with such riffraff," Buck answered.

"What do you mean Mr. Buck?" Billy asked tearfully.

"Well Ben and Simon they've done jail time. My momma was a working girl. Ole Chris he's the bad element. I wouldn't be surprised if Vin don't bring 'lizabeth fishing too," Buck nodded and turned away.

Stopping he turned back "Mrs. Travis, 'lizabeth isn't a bastard. Her daddy was killed in a holdup by a drunken UNPK officer. It comes to my mind a true lady would have had the manners to thank Vin for protecting her from Hinkley," Buck reminded before walking off.

"That boy's gonna turn out to be another Hinkley if his momma don't get her head out of her ass" Buck muttered as he walked off leaving the wailing child and a furious woman in the alley. "Momma, make Sheriff Chris take me too," Billy screamed in a temper.

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Several hours later Vin was carefully sewing a rip in a shirt when Billy approached. "Vin, are you mad at me?" Billy asked. Vin lay down the shirt and looked at the boy.

"No!" Vin said "I'se a might disappointed."

Billy sat down and waited.

"Why do ya like tha Mysterious Ranger?" Vin asked.

"'cause he's a good guy. It dosen't matter how many bad guys get in his way," Billy said proudly.

"Didja do the righ' thin' taday, Billy? Didja act like tha Mysterious Ranger?" Vin asked sadly. Billy paled looking sick. "I seen Hinkley hurt folks tha' couldn't fight back many a time. Don't wantcha to grow up and be like that," Vin whispered.

"I'm sorry, Vin," Billy whispered.

"It's not me ya should be 'polagising too," Vin said. Billy nodded and stood. Vin watched with a faint smile when the boy wandered off with a thoughtful look on his face.

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Rumors began to circulate in town, old stories of hounds and their abominable practices. Questions were raised about Vin spending time with the local children. Mary confronted Chris demanding that he protect the children from the hound. Chris ordered the confused tracker not to be alone with the children. That he wasn't to be around them at all.

Chris suppressed his guilt at the easily read hurt in expressive blue eyes. Vin took to spending much of his time up on Mrs. Potter's roof. The children demanded to know why Vin was mad at them. The disgusted looks from the others set the volatile Larabee's teeth on edge. So things continued for weeks.

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Chris had been drinking steadily most of the day. Stomping out of the saloon when he heard the shrill screams. Billy Travis stood white faced and trembling his horrified eyes locked on his mother. Mary was screaming and hitting the tracker's back as he carried the limp child towards Nathaniel's clinic.

"What the hell's going on?" Chris roared.

"He killed her," Mary screamed.

Nathaniel ran over "Vin, let me have her". The healer lifted the child from the tracker's gentle grasp. Nathaniel's concern eased as 'lizabeth was finally able to get a breath after having had it knocked out of her. A piercing scream came from the little girl

"Momma," she began to sob.

"Hush, sugar. JW's gonna go get yer momma right now," Nathaniel nodded to the young deputy who took off at a dead run. "Can you tell me where you hurt?" Nathaniel coaxed as he headed for his clinic. "Mrs. Potter, could you come help out for a little while?" Nathaniel asked as he passed the shopkeeper.

"Of course," she answered hurrying after the tall man.

"I saw what happened, son. If you hadn't grabbed her she'd have been run over for sure," Isaiah comforted the shaken tracker. Mary's ranting drowned out Isaiah's words. When she turned on the drunken Larabee with her insinuations and suspicions, Chris snapped.

"I told you to stay away from the kids," Chris snarled. Vin made no attempt to defend himself from Chris' fists. Vin rolled away from the brutal kicks and climbed to his feet looking dazed. Chris coldly cursed Tanner. Vin flinched as the words hit home. The expressive blue eyes closed as the words washed over him.

"Ezra, take Mrs. Travis home," Buck ordered. "She's 'caused enough trouble."

Chris barked another curse at the shaken tracker. Unexpectedly the dazed blue eyes hardened and the tracker bared his teeth. Vin straightened and looked Chris straight in the eye. "My ma was a lady," came the rough whisper followed by a hard fist.

Chris rocked back on his heels and swung back. Buck stood in shock as Vin put Chris down in remarkably short time. Taking a deep breath the tracker took a step back and walked away. Chris rose shakily and started after the tracker, cursing and yelling. Without a word Buck hit Chris in the jaw dropping him in his tracks. Vin snarled and moved protectively towards Larabee.

"Back off, Junior," Buck ordered lifting Chris over his shoulder and carrying him towards the boarding house.

"Mary Travis, get off the street before I forget you're a woman," Ezra growled furiously.

Vin shifted in the street feeling the heavy weight of all the eyes on him. Moving steadily he walked into the livery and began to pack his gear.

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"Just a little shook up, Miss Leah," Nathaniel smiled as the distraught mother burst in still in her working clothes. "Just got the wind knocked out of her. Bloodied her nose, some scrapes and bruises," Nathaniel listed as he carefully tickled the little girl making her giggle. "Whoa!" he quickly handed 'lizabeth to Mrs. Potter and grabbed the fainting woman. Leah woke to three pairs of concerned eyes.

"Momma?" 'lizabeth asked faintly.

"I'm fine little bit. I guess Buck's right, I should let out this corset," Leah laughed faintly. Nathaniel and Anne Potter found themselves joining in.

"I'm sorry I scared you, momma. I didn't see the buggy," The little girl's chin quivered.

"You just be careful, baby girl," Leah whispered holding 'lizabeth tight.

"It's time for you boys to do more then fine Mary Travis for the way she drives that damn buggy," Anne Potter growled. Nathaniel straightened with a shocked look on his face. "Yes, I said it and I mean it," Anne snorted. "She killed Elly Stien's little terrier not two weeks ago. Now she's almost murdered that sweet baby. Are you waiting for someone to die?" the woman demanded.

"It'll be took care of Mrs. Potte,r you have my word," Nathaniel said determinedly. Anne nodded.

"Now let me go get you a cloak to wear back," Anne told the working girl.

"Thank you," Leah flushed.

"Girl, Miss Lilly was mighty kind when my Amos was killed. Sending meals and such. Makes me feel good returning the kindness a little," Anne smiled gently.

"Leah," Anne's serious voice continued "if you need anything. I will help". The woman bustled out the door.


	21. Home Truths

21. Home Truths

Vin watched from the livery as Nathaniel escorted Leah and 'lizabeth back to the brothel. Assured that the child was safe he relaxed slightly.

"Chris alrigh'?" Vin asked the big preacher when he came in.

"Brother Chris is recovering from his stupidity," Isaiah sighed. "Vin, are you all right?" Isaiah asked as he studied the blood smears and bruises on the younger man's face.

"I'se fine," Vin flinched back from the reaching hand. "It won't never be no different," Vin mumbled looking out at the town without really seeing it.

"Vin," Isaiah looked troubled. Vin ducked throwing up an arm in a protective manner when Isaiah reached out to touch his shoulder. Soundlessly the tracker shrank back and darted to his horse. Mounting he was moving fast as he rode by the preacher.

"Watch your lamb, Lord," Isaiah prayed.

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Chris woke and grunted "Damn you hit hard."

"If you're interested in what happened. Mary almost ran 'lizabeth over with her buggy. Vin managed to grab her in time. The girl's fine," Buck growled. Chris gazed blearily over at the rogue.

"Damn," he groaned.

"Junior's pulling out," Buck growled "He was saddling up. I guess he's waiting to see how 'lizabeth is for he goes."

"Shit," Chris muttered "Where the hell's my pants?" Chris struggled up intent on seeing Vin.

Chris had barely reached the street when Vin came barreling out of the livery astride Peso. The rest of the team gathered in concern.

"You figure he's heading for open country?" Buck asked as he moved to Chris' shoulder.

"Reckon so," Chris sighed.

"He's running from his own shadow lately," Isaiah noted.

"I figure them nightmares is back," Nathaniel said.

"Yeah I've heard him rocking in that ole chair late at night. Junior's trying not to sleep," Buck agreed.

"I woke him a few nights while I was on rounds. He was crying in his sleep," JW said.

"Mr. Larabee, has Vin approached you at all," Ezra asked quietly.

"No," Chris answered.

"Overload?" Nathaniel asked. Worried looks were exchanged.

"I'll never catch him in the dark," Chris snarled.

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"I want to file a complaint, Chris," Nathan's eyes were flashing in fury.

"Now?"

"Now. It's waited long enough," Nathan growled. Puzzled the other men followed the healer and the sheriff to the jail.

"All right, Nathan who do you want to swear out this complaint against?" Chris sat down and pulled out the correct forms.

"Mrs. Mary Travis," Nathan growled.

"What?" startled exclamations filled the room.

"Wanton endangerment, attempted manslaughter, abuse of minors, assault, slander, reckless behavior, and being a danger to the safety of the community," Nathan listed.

"Nathan, are you sure you want to do this?" Chris hesitated.

"Yes."

"All right then," Chris began writing. "These are some serious charges," Chris looked up.

"They sure are," Nathan agreed.

"I'll have to arrest her," Chris sighed.

"Yes, you will," Nathan agreed once more.

"You want her kept in jail," Chris grimaced. Buck and JW flinched at the idea of dealing with a jailed Mary Travis.

"I figure once you book her you can put her under house arrest," Nathan said.

"Sounds fair enough the judge can sort this out when he gets to town," Chris relaxed.

"If she leaves that house without a police escort she goes into a cell. You make sure she knows that. Chris I want you to impound that horse and buggy of hers," Nathan said.

"Yeah, I'll do that," Chris agreed and stood up.

"Buck," Chris spoke as he started out the door.

"Your faithful deputy is right behind you, Sheriff. I'll go arrest that horse right now. I'll even go after that law breaking buggy," Buck darted past Chris at a run.

"Coward!" Chris called after the fast moving man.

"Sure am," Buck laughed as he ran.

"Chris Larabee, what is Buck doing with my horse and buggy?" Mary snapped as Chris entered the newspaper office.

"Impounding them," Chris answered flatly.

"Impounding them? Who does he think he is?" she snarled.

"A duly appointed deputy of the law. Mary, a complaint has been filed. By territorial law an arrest warrant was issued considering the severity of this complaint," Chris explained.

"So," Mary tapped a foot.

"I'm here to serve that warrant," Chris spoke without emotion.

"So why aren't you out serving it," Mary huffed.

"As Sheriff of Travis County an arrest warrant has been issued for Mary Travis. You have the right to an attorney. You have the right to an open trial by your peers. Mary come on down to the jail so we can do this quietly," Chris said gently.

"How dare you. You can't arrest me," Mary screeched.

"Yes I can. Mary, come quietly or I'll have to shackle you. You don't want everyone see me drag you out of here in cuffs," Chris explained. "Once we fill out the paperwork then you can stay here under house arrest instead of in a cell," Chris soothed.

"I'll have your badge for this, Chris Larabee," Mary gritted as they walked over to the jail.

"I'm just doing my job. If you had just slowed down that buggy like we asked none of this would have been necessary," Chris gritted back.

"This is all over me driving too fast," Mary laughed.

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"No, it isn't," Chris snarled.

Mary looked bewildered and grew quiet as they entered the jail.

"JW, book Mrs. Travis," Chris ordered.

"Chris?" JW hissed.

"It's the way things work, son," Chris sighed.

"OK, Chris," JW started the necessary actions.

"Mary, you have the right to know the charges against you. I would suggest you retain a lawyer. Your court date will be up to Territorial Judge Orrin Travis. The charges against you are as follows. Attempted manslaughter, two counts of assault to a minor, wanton endangerment, child abuse, slander, reckless behavior resulting in bodily harm, property damage, and being a danger to the public safety. If you wish a written list of these charges this office is obligated to provide you with one," Chris informed her.

"This office has determined that you will not be a flight risk. As such you will remain under house arrest until your court date. If you do not remain within your home unless escorted by an officer of the court you will be incarcerated within this facility. Do you understand your situation, Mrs. Travis," Chris asked.

"Yes," Mary hissed.

"I'll take you home now". Chris stood up and led the woman to the door. "Do you need anything from the stores?" Chris asked polietly.

"No," Mary huffed.

"Good. Let's get you home," Chris sighed.

"You know these charges are bogus," Mary pouted.

"No, their not. Stop acting like a spoiled brat and look what you're doing. What you're turning Billy into," Chris responded coldly.

"How I raise my son is none of your business," Mary hissed.

"Yes, it is. If he was a few years older it might not have been his fists he was using on 'lisbeth," Chris warned.

"How dare you say something like that. Billy is being raised as a gentleman," Mary growled.

"With his mother telling him anything that happens to that little girl is perfectly all right," Chris hissed back. "Take sometime and think, Mary," Chris glared "Good Night". Larabee shut the door firmly closing Mary inside.


	22. Heaven's Gate

22. Heaven's Gate

Billy hesitantly walked over to the table where Chris was sitting eating his breakfast. "Why'd you treat Vin like that? He saved 'lizabeth," Billy said.

"I didn't wait to find out what happened, son. I just reacted," Chris sighed.

"I guess Vin's kind of disappointed in us both," Billy looked up with tears in his eyes. "Chris" Billy sighed.

"Sit down, Billy, that was a mighty big sigh. What's wrong?" Chris asked gently.

"My momma----she's not----. She said bad things about 'lizabeth and Vin. But she's the one that did wrong," Billy's voice broke.

"Billy sometimes we do bad things then blame the folks we hurt for it. It isn't right, but we do it," Chris admitted.

"Are you going to apologize to Vin?" Billy asked.

"Yeah, kid, I sure am," Chris responded.

"That's good. Will you tell Vin I'm sorry. About what momma did and me being mean to 'lizabeth," Billy asked.

"I'll tell him," Chris promised.

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Chris nursed his hangover and a sense of shame as he sat astride his black. Most of the day he had been trying to follow the faint track's of Tanner's horse on the stony ground. "Only a goat would take this damn trail," Larabee gritted as once more his aching head was jarred by a sudden jerk. _What can I say, I'm a damn fool? I was drunk? Neither one is any kind of excuse. _Coming to a halt as the trail suddenly opened up into a hanging valley. A beautiful little glade seeming to hang on the edge of the mountain.

Peso grazed peacefully in the lush grass in a corral made by poles across the trail blocking the only exit. Chris dismounted painfully and led Pony in putting the poles back. He turned the big black loose after unsaddling him. Sighing deeply Chris looked around for the missing tracker.

_He must be part squirrel. _Chris swallowed hard and started to climb the side of the mountain to the overhang where the tracker sat feet dangling, gazing to the west. Gasping for breath Chris pulled himself atop the rock. Rolling onto his back he lay trying to catch his breath.

"Have you got a death wish, Tanner?" Chris finally growled. Chris shivered as he spied the drop off under Vin's feet.

"Ain't tha fool climbing the cliff face when they's a perfectly good trail," Vin growled back.

"Ah Shit!" Chris sighed now seeing the trail up. "I was drunk," Chris offered.

"Yep," Vin answered never turning.

"Ya got to admit it looked bad," Chris continued. Vin simply nodded still looking into the west. "Mary said ...," Chris began.

"Jus' shut up," Vin said tiredly.

Chris opened his mouth then shut it with out speaking. _I hurt you bad. Your right there is no excuse. _Chris considered how to reach the soul wounded man.

"Hell! I might as well have a parade," Vin growled.

Chris looked down to see the five riders approaching the little valley. Chris watched till they settled their horses then he whistled. When they looked up he pointed out the trail mouth to them. The five lawmen climbed the faint steep path finally coming out onto the ledge, just as sunset began.

Deeply drawn breaths froze in their throats as the ledge was bathed in pure golden light. The long valley beneath Vin's dangling feet seemed to glow. The colors seemed almost unreal in their beauty. Ezra moved forward and sat comfortably on the ledge near Vin the others hung back from the one hundred-foot or more drop off.

A soft breeze was born carrying the scent of water, growing things and the earth itself to the men. A strange rippling hum filled the air almost like a stringed instrument. The men watched silently till the sun sank fully.

"Awesome is the handiwork of God," Ezra breathed.

"What is this place?" Nathaniel whispered into the darkness.

"Sure was somethin'," Buck smiled peacefully.

"Did I really hear a harp?" JW asked faintly.

"Best get y'all down," Vin led the way off the ledge.

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When they reached the hidden valley Vin began to build a fire. The others gathered wood and made camp. "Ya best wait fer light 'fore ya head down," Vin suggested. He walked over to his own gear and pulled a cased guitar free. Silently he started back up to the ledge.

"That path isn't safe in the dark, Vin Tanner," Nathaniel called in concern.

"I don' need light. I'se a hound," Vin reminded the healer emotionlessly as he walked away.

"VIN!" Chris snapped.

"I got me some thinkin' ta do," Vin spoke without inflection.

"I was drunk, dammit!" Chris tried to explain.

"Don' matter none," Vin said tiredly.

"Vin, I promise ...," Chris began.

"Pie crust," Vin answered and disappeared into the night.

"Pie crust?" Chris looked puzzled.

"Mr. Tanner was making reference to your past assurances," Ezra said softly.

"How's that?" Chris demanded.

"Like pie crust easily made, easily broken," Ezra answered.

"My word's good," Chris snarled.

"Would you have treated any of the rest of us like that?" Buck asked as he stirred the skillet. Chris took a step back as if Buck had hit him.

"You told Junior that nobody had the right to hit him. You've done it twice now," Buck said sadly. "You give the benefit of the doubt to most everyone else. Junior's had to prove himself over and over again. Yet you still choose to believe the worst," Buck sighed.

"Mary said ...," Chris tried to defend himself.

"Mrs. Travis is well known for arranging facts to suit her own perceptions," Ezra reminded. Chris frowned as he remembered many occasions of just that behavior.

"You know Mrs. Travis tries to make Vin look bad every chance she gets," JW pointed out.

"He ain't listening to me," Chris growled.

"Why should he, nothing changes!" Isaiah thundered speaking for the first time. "You knock him down and call him obscenities in the street. Where was the collar and shackles, Larabee?" Isaiah asked. Chris looked stunned

"I'd never do that to him," Chris gasped.

"Pie crust promises. You treated him like Hinkley did," Isaiah growled.

Chris paled "I'm nothing like Hinkley," he declared furiously.

"You're quite correct, Mr. Larabee. Hinkley never made any pretense of being anything except an abuser. You on the other hand quite successfully convinced that scarred soul that you were his friend not once but twice. I must acknowledge a master in the art of the con. I have never been able to rid myself of this pesky conscious. It is doubtful that I will ever be able to equal your achievement, Mr. Larabee," Ezra tipped his hat.

Chris flushed and placed his hand on his gun butt. Ezra calmly studied the sheriff. Chris finally sank down by the fire and asked softly. "How do I fix things?"

"Vin's not going to believe words anymore. You're going to have to earn his trust," JW said. Chris nodded thoughtfully. The meal was eaten and camp chores done. The men crawled into their bedrolls for the night.

"That was sure some sunset," Buck mused.

"Brother Vin calls this place Heaven's Gate," Isaiah rumbled.

"Extremely fitting," Ezra sighed.

The men quickly dropped off to sleep in the peaceful surroundings. Ezra woke around midnight trying to decide what had disturbed him. Smiling he gently nudged Isaiah waking the preacher.

"Wha?" Isaiah growled.

"Listen," Ezra ordered. Soon all the sleepers had been wakened. They lay under the chill blanket of stars listening to the troubled tracker's music.

"He sure plays mighty pretty don't he," Buck whispered.

"It's so sad," JW sighed softly. Finally the soft playing lulled the men back to sleep.

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In the light of the false dawn Isaiah climbed to the ledge. The sweet sounds of 'Ave Maria' greeted the preacher's ascent. Vin was sitting facing east this time. His bruised face was calm and peaceful. Isaiah recognized the calm of a man who had wrestled with his demons and defeated them, at least for a little while.

Isaiah stood breathless as the dawn's light set the sky on fire. The valley below was slowly bathed in its glow. Vin's talented fingers played 'Morning has Broken' as the day was born. Isaiah started to move.

"Wait," Vin ordered gently. A soft mist rose from below. A stillness as if the earth itself held its breath. A perfect rainbow was born, seeming to rise from the shelf up to heaven. Finally a soft breeze rose and the rainbow disappeared as if it never was.

"What a blessing," Isaiah whispered in awe. Vin sighed and stood.

"Thank ya fer tha day, Lord," Vin spoke softly.

"Amen," Isaiah agreed.

Vin followed Isaiah down the guitar hung on his back carefully cased. "I didn't know you could play. We can sure use you at the dances in town," Buck grinned as he offered the tracker a cup of coffee.

"I play fer him. Cain't play fer folks just ain't no good," Vin refused quietly.

"God must be smiling," JW acknowledged.

"He blessed brother Vin with a rainbow this morning," Isaiah agreed.

"Rainbows grow up yonder real regular," Vin disagreed.

Chris silently waited by the fire. "Vin, I ...," he started.

"I'm bound ta ya," Vin said calmly. Chris started to speak and Vin cut him off. "Cain't expect no different from ya. Ya never wanted no part of this," Vin spoke quietly. Chris felt shame as the tracker flinched when his split lip brushed the cup's edge.

"I shouldn't have done that. You didn't deserve me treating you that way," Chris muttered.

"It don't matter none," Vin said huskily. Chris paled at the tracker's calm accepting tone. "Ya don't never speak of mah ma that way," Vin warned coldly. The tracker nailed Chris with a feral look.

"I'll remember," Chris nodded "Vin, you were never those awful things I said," Chris reached out. Vin flinched from the outstretched hand

"Don't! We best saddle up. It's time ta head down," Vin grunted as he finished his coffee.

"Vin you're going to have to bond at some point," Chris reminded.

"I know," Vin muttered bitterly and walked off.


	23. Troubled Past

23. Troubled Past

Reminders

"Ez?" Vin asked softly from the shadowed corner of the saloon.

"Yes, Mr. Tanner, may I help you?" Ezra felt relief as Vin actually approached for once.

"Kin I talk wit' ya a bit?" he rasped.

"Certainly, Mr. Tanner," Ezra noted the tracker's discomfort. "Perhaps in a less crowded venue?" Ezra suggested. Vin's head tilted slightly as he worked out the gambler's meaning.

"Some place wit' less folks?" he questioned.

"Yes," Ezra smiled gently.

"'kay," Vin followed Ezra up to his room.

Chris frowned as the pair disappeared. "Don't get your knickers in a bunch," Buck directed. "Maybe ole Ez can get Junior to speak out," Buck suggested.

"What's wrong, Mr. Tanner," Ezra finally asked as Vin prowled the gambler's sitting room.

"Yer a real smart man, Ez. I don' know what ta do," Vin had a deeply troubled look on his face. "Ya know I has nightmares," Vin hesitated.

"Quite understandable," Ezra nodded.

"Two fellers rode in a little bit ago," Vin breathing became labored.

"Vin, did these men hurt you at sometime?" Ezra asked gently.

Vin nodded stiffly. "Don't know iffen they'll 'member er not," Vin whispered. "Them thin's Chris said," Vin started.

"Mr. Larabee was in a temper and intoxicated," Ezra soothed.

"Let me say mah piece," Vin asked. Ezra nodded silently. "He only spoke tha' truth. I done them things like he said," Vin blurted. Ezra quickly recovered his poker face. "Been took by different folks reckon tha' makes me a slut like Chris said don' it?" Vin asked faintly.

"Vin, you weren't given a choice were you?" Ezra asked. Vin shook his head faintly. "There's ugly words for what they did to you," Ezra said faintly. "You were a victim, Vin," Ezra stated harshly. Pained blue eyes searched the gambler's face. "You are a survivor, Vin Tanner. You have nothing to be ashamed of," Ezra declared. Ezra sighed in relief as the tracker relaxed slightly. "I want you to stay here till I speak with Mr. Larabee. Promise me now," Ezra's voice was husky.

"Promise," Vin agreed shifting from foot to foot. "Ez, could ya bring Buck too," the tracker asked softly.

"Come here, Vin," Ezra ordered gently. Vin flinched as the gambler reached out. "You are indubitably the most courageous individual it has ever been my pleasure to know," Ezra gently stroked the curls back from Vin's cheek. "You sit and rock till you feel better," Ezra nudged the tracker onto the rocking chair. Vin twitched uncomfortably as Ezra tucked an afghan around him and left with a smile.

_Yer mighty kind, Ez,_ the tracker thought in wonder tracing the bright pattern with a finger.

Ezra quickly located Chris and Buck. "Mr. Wilmington, Mr. Larabee we have a situation," Ezra sank down in a chair at their table. "Mr. Tanner's past is unfortunately making itself known," Ezra said sadly.

"He talk to you?" Chris asked roughly, still angry that Tanner had turned to the gambler instead of him.

"Mr. Tanner revealed some rather disturbing facts, yes," Ezra's hands trembled as he poured a drink. "Very ugly," Ezra sighed tossing the whiskey back. Chris and Buck exchanged serious looks. "Vin needs to talk to you," Ezra said flatly. "Both of you. Mr. Larabee, Vin doesn't need your temper he's distressed enough. He could certainly use a friend," Ezra pinned the Sheriff with a cold look.

"I'll keep my temper," Chris promised.

Ezra led the two men up to his rooms. "Vin! I brought Chris and Buck," Ezra called as he unlocked the door. Vin was still sitting in Ezra's rocking chair. The steady rhythm never broke as the three men entered the room. A finger traced the colorful pattern. Long moments passed.

"Vin, Ez said ya wanted to talk," Buck urged. Vin ducked his head. The steady rocking became agitated.

"Chris was right when he said them things," Vin whispered painfully.

"Chris was wrong, Junior," Buck soothed approaching the agitated man carefully.

"Weren't wrong I done them things," Vin said without emotion the rocker coming to a halt. Haunted eyes studied the reactions of the other men. The tired blue eyes closed shutting out the others. The rocking began again in the silence.

Chris swallowed as the tracker's misery pounded into him. Chris hesitantly moved further into the room. Vin suddenly moved pulling his feet and legs up into the rocker he curled himself tightly. The afghan was pulled over his head. The slender body jerked with silent sobs. Chris' eyes dropped from the others gazes in shame at the result of his thoughtless cruelty. Finally the silent jerks stopped and the rocking stopped.

"How in hell can he do that?" Buck asked studying Vin curled up in the seat of the rocker sound asleep.

Chris spoke gently as he gently nudged the chair into motion. "Just me, Cowboy. You don't look comfortable. How 'bout we move you to Ez's bed," Chris gently gathered the emotionally exhausted man into his arms. Vin's eyes popped open and he struggled wildly in the restraining arms. "Easy, Vin, take it easy," Chris soothed as he carefully released the terrified tracker. Vin backed himself into a corner and curled up in a tight ball rocking silently.

"Qwith?" the shaky voice finally asked.

"Right here, Cowboy," Chris knelt several feet away.

"Ah hell," Vin laid his head against the wall.

"Ez said you wanted to talk. Buck's here too," Chris informed the tense figure. Long moments passed.

"Junior you have to speak to have a talk," Buck teased.

"I'se sorry," Vin whispered.

"Nothin' to be sorry about Vin," Buck soothed.

"Chris was right when he called me them names," Vin's voice was shaky.

"Vin Tanner you haven't ever been none of those things," Buck growled.

"Was bought fer a bottle a whiskey many a time," Vin snarled.

Buck's voice broke as he talked to Vin. "Don't make you them things, son. You never had you a choice," Buck whispered.

"Made choices," Vin disagreed.

Chris suddenly reached out and pulled the tracker into his lap pinning him in place. Silently he rocked and accepted the desperate blows from the frightened man. Eventually Vin stilled.

"I'se 'shamed," Vin sobbed into Chris' shoulder.

"Sh ... sh... It's all right...Sh I got ya now...Never been so proud of nobody...You cry it out...nothing for you to be ashamed of... I'm a damn fool...Sh, sh now," Chris soothed. The sobs turned to soft hiccups and then the tracker drifted to sleep. Chris continued to hold the sleeping man rubbing gently circles over the thin back.

Buck growled softly "What did Junior say, Ez?".

"Vin recognized two men," Ezra spoke softly.

"Them two fellas that rode in?"

"They hurt him," Ezra snarled. Chris tensed then forced himself to relax as Vin reacted to his anger.

"Hinkley," Buck snarled.

"Almost certainly," Ezra agreed.

"Chris?" Buck asked in concern.

"Take care of it. You want to help me up here. Cowboy's down for the count. We're gonna get more comfortable," Chris smiled faintly. _Headache is finally going away. Are you doing that, Cowboy. _

Ezra quickly turned back the blankets on his bed. Buck carefully removed Vin's boots and gunbelt. Laughing softly he removed Chris gunbelt. When Chris sat down on the bed still cradling the tracker Buck pulled Chris' boots off and removed his hat. Between the three men they were able to remove Vin's coat. Placing the weapons close to hand. Buck tucked the blankets in around the two men.

"Hell, if he was a woman I'd toss your ass out of that bed Chris," Buck gently brushed the curls off of Vin's face. "He looks younger then JW like this," Buck chuckled. "Chris, you don't figure that Junior could be?" Buck looked troubled.

"Yeah, Buck, he's only seventeen," Chris gently stroked the long curls trying to heal the damage done to bonded. That from the past and that inflicted by his cruel words.


	24. Dark Memories

Dark Memories

Ezra and Buck exchanged a look before they went down stairs into the saloon. Ezra took his customary place at 'his' table and dealt himself a hand of patience. Buck sank down at the corner table and watched the crowd. Soon Ezra had a game of poker going with a couple of locals and the two men they were hunting.

"Quiet little community," the taller one said.

"We prefer our small berg to remain so," Ezra said as he dealt. Ezra's fury grew as the men talked while losing steadily over the next few hours.

"You're cheating," one of the two accused.

"It is unnecessary for me to resort to card manipulation when playing against such inept opponents," Ezra responded coldly.

"Perhaps the local lawman would disagree." The shorter man glared.

"Deputy Wilmington, these gentlemen would like to speak with you on a matter of a criminal nature," Ezra spoke loud enough to silence most of the conversations in the saloon.

"Are they confessing?" Buck drawled.

"This man is a cheat," Stanford accused.

"Ole Ez don't need ta cheat, he can play cards," Buck responded.

"You certainly need civilized people in this town," Milburn growled.

"Maybe," Buck agreed.

"I was hired by Mrs. Travis on behalf of the town of Four Corners," Stanford said cuttingly. "I'm the new schoolmaster," Stanford sneered.

"Mister, you even look at one of the kids and I'll blow your brains out," Buck promised roughly.

"I want to speak with the Sheriff," Stanford demanded.

"Certainly, Mr. Larabee detests pedophiles," Ezra smiled mockingly. Stanford and his companion paled.

"What's a peda... whatever you said," Buck asked.

"A sexual predator who targets children," Ezra explained.

"Gutted the last one," Buck nodded.

"How dare you accuse me of such a thing," Stanford roared. "You could ruin my career with such unfounded rumor." Vin Tanner ghosted down the stairs unnoticed.

"I suggest we contact Mr. Stanford's previous employers," Ezra smiled.

"Vin, NO!" Chris roared from the stairs. Tanner paused momentarily before stalking the two men.

"Ain't rumor though," Vin growled.

"Do I know you?" Stanford looked down his nose at the scruffy tracker.

"Might say that," Vin smiled ferally as he drew his knife. "I 'member how much ya liked ta play wit' knives. Ready ta play," Vin rasped.

"Oh, God!" Stanford backed up.

"Vin, no," Chris whispered.

Vin flinched slightly but kept moving.

"Vin, it won't fix it," Buck said gently.

"They won' hurt no more kids," Vin growled.

"Vin, I promise they won't hurt any more children," Chris spoke calmly "No pie crust."

"Cain't let 'em go. Kin still hear them screaming," Vin whispered.

"Who's screaming?" Chris asked.

"Tha children," Vin whispered. "I tried, Chris. Tried sa hard," Vin whispered.

"What happened to the children?" Chris asked.

"They hurt 'em real bad. Then they buried 'em. They's still alive when they covered 'em over," Vin growled. "That's why they gotta die," Vin said very calmly.


	25. After Images

25. After Images

You could have heard a pin drop in the saloon. Hostile looks were turned towards the two men. "He's lying," Stanford scoffed and Melborn agreed. "You're going to believe this scruffy, uneducated ruffian over us. I have credentials, why Mary Travis investigated me thoroughly before hiring me."

Buck rabbit punched Vin as the tracker darted towards Stanford. "Dammit, Vin, I didn't want to have to do that," Buck sighed.

"I want him jailed immediately he's insane," Melborn's voice quivered.

"Chris?" Buck looked towards the balcony.

"It'll be safer for him," Chris growled, "be sure and have Nate look him over." The saloon was quite as Buck carried the limp tracker out

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"If Vin Tanner says it is, then it's the truth," Tiny growled from where he was standing at the bar.

"Vin doesn't lie," JW agreed looking sick.

"These gentlemen have recommendations. What do we really know about Tanner?" Conklin sneered.

"I know he almost died bringing in those bank robbers," Yosemite spoke up.

"Seems to me you had money in the bank too didn't you Conklin?" Virgil Watson from the hardware store asked quietly. "You'd probably be out of business if that money hadn't been recovered. He helped me out for weeks after I broke my leg," Virgil continued. "More than I ever got out of some 'friends' I've known better than ten years isn't it."

"He could have been killed pulling that baby out from in front of Mrs. Travis' buggy," a miner reminded.

"I've seen him sweeping and carrying for Mrs. Potter," another man spoke up.

"Vin Tanner's quick to offer a hand and he's a hell of a lot of help to folks around here," Tiny rumbled.

"Mr. Stanford has recommendations and references," Conklin reminded.

"Which are quite easy to acquire," Ezra sniffed. "By this time tomorrow I could have papers proving that you are president of the United Nations," Ezra drawled.

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"Easy, Junior," Buck soothed. Vin had started attacking the bars to his cell as soon as he had woke. "Calm down now," Buck ordered.

"What's the problem, brother?" Isaiah stuck his head through the jail door.

"Could you get Chris? Vin's acting plumb loco," Buck asked worriedly.

"Why's the boy in a cell, Buck?" Isaiah voice held anger.

"He was gonna gut the new school master," Buck sighed.

"WHAT?" Isaiah bellowed in disbelief. He stalked over to the cell. "Easy, little brother, talk to me. What's going on?" Isaiah's voice dropped into a calming purr. The mindless slamming at the bars finally came to a halt.

"'Saiah?" Vin's voice was childlike.

"Yes, little brother, tell me about it," Isaiah coaxed.

"They hurted," Vin whispered.

"Who hurt you?" Isaiah gently stroked the fingers now locked around the bars.

"Stanford and Melborn," Vin muttered. "They hurted tha childer," Vin whispered in a choked voice.

"What children?" Buck asked softly.

"Red Butte, they's from tha orphanage there," Vin looked over at Buck. "Weren't hardly more'n babies. Why'd they do that Buck?" Vin asked in bewilderment. "Why didn't I 'member it 'till now?"

"How many children, Vin?" Isaiah touched the white knuckled hands.

"Nine," Vin's eyes held agony.

"How did the children die, Junior?" Buck coaxed.

"They beat 'em, they cut 'em and they took 'em, then they buried 'em," Vin said without emotion.

"You said they were still alive," Buck's voice was shaky.

"They was, I could hear'em trying ta dig out," Vin sank to the floor. Isaiah followed him down reaching through the bars he slid Vin as close as possible and rubbed the trembling back.

"Dear God," Isaiah whispered in horror looking up at the white faced Wilmington.

"Buck, get Chris, I'm going to stay here with Vin," Isaiah choked. Buck nodded and left.

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"Son, talk to me," Isaiah crooned.

"I'se that thing," Vin rocked himself in misery.

"What thing, Vin?" Isaiah tried to calm the shaking man.

"'Bomination, liken yah said," Vin raised tortured eyes.

"Oh, Son, I was so wrong," Isaiah reached through the bars. Gentle hands cradled the bent head. "You've got the purest soul I've ever known," Isaiah breathed.

"Ain't nothin' pure about me preacher," Vin pulled away. "I been took six ways ta Sunday. Been traded fer a bottle a rotgut whiskey too many times ta even remember. Hell I ain't even people," Vin's voice rose.

"There is no sin on your soul due to that," Isaiah held out a open hand.

"I ain't people, I got no soul," Vin's voice was flat.

"I was so very, very wrong. For that I need beg your forgiveness," Isaiah offered his hands.

"Fergiveness?" Vin raised confused eyes.

"I am a shepherd, Devin Tanner. I almost cast away one of the good Lord's finest lambs through my prejudice. For that I ask your forgiveness," Isaiah held still.

Vin's eyes widened and a wondering look worked it's way into his eyes. "Yah think I gotta soul," Vin breathed in amazement.

"Of course you do. Anyone spending more than five minutes with you could tell you that," Isaiah choked out.

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"Now then how do you want to handle these monsters?" Isaiah asked softly.

"Be best iffen yah let me kill 'em," Vin breathed.

"I can't let you do that, little brother," Isaiah gently shook the slender man.

"I figure Red Butte weren't tha' first time they done such. Rekin they'll keep on doing such till they's stopped," Vin hissed.

"I won't let you hang for killing them," Isaiah growled.

"Somethin's is worth dying for, 'Saiah," Vin smiled softly.

"That they are, but there's more than you to think on here son," Isaiah reminded. "You'd hurt an awful lot of people".

"Chris," Vin whispered.

"Him the worst. It would break this old heart too," Isaiah admitted..

"Help me figure another way then. Never had nobody ta worry on me 'fore now," Vin held out a hand.

"That I can do," Isaiah opened the cell door and pulled the slender man into his big arms in a warm hug.

"'Saiah, been wonderin' on somethin'?" Vin muttered.

"What's that Vin?" Isaiah coaxed.

"Seems ta me you and God ain't always on the best a terms," Vin offered hesitantly.

"Seems to me your right," Isaiah sighed. "I see injustice, the evil that lives in this world and I get angry."

"Didn't yah talk Sunday on free will?" Vin asked softly.

"That I did," Isaiah looked over at the tracker.

"That means folks make choices good or bad but they make 'em ain't that right?" Vin asked.

"That they do," Isaiah growled.

"You figure God's ta blame fer bad decisions?" Vin asked in bewilderment.

"Of course...not," Isaiah spluttered a thoughtful look crossed his face. "Vin Tanner I have a feeling that Jesus has been sitting by your fire for along time. From what I saw on that ledge your old friends," Isaiah laughed.

"Huh, well I showed mighty poor manners ought ta have at least offered him a cup a coffee," Vin said in a shaky voice.


	26. A Different Kind of Justice

26. A Different Kind of Justice

"How do you want to handle this, Vin?" Isaiah asked gently. Turning Isaiah spotted a white-faced Chris and Buck in the jail door. They had frozen at Vin's pained remembrances.

"They gotta be stopped," Vin hissed desperately.

"They won't be doing it again, Cowboy," Chris swore.

"First we'll get a copy of the resume and paperwork from Mary," Isaiah decided.

"What fer?" Vin looked confused.

"We'll send telegrams to the towns where Stanford worked asking about missing children," Isaiah explained.

"In Red Butte nobody'd miss them orphans," Vin reminded sadly.

"Maybe, maybe not," Isaiah sighed. "It's a place to start son," he explained.

"Ask about bodies too," Chris growled.

"How can we put them in jail or something 'til we can get them hung?" Buck demanded.

"Ezra's handling that now," Chris smirked. "Seems our fine educator and his friend have light fingers. In about an hour I want Nathaniel and JW to search their rooms. Seems we have several complaints from upstanding citizens of our community," Chris explained.

"That'll hold them until the judge can get here in a couple of weeks," Isaiah agreed.

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"Vin, I don't want to rake up old sorrows. I don't have a lot of choice right now," Chris sighed. "Red Butte, when did that happen?" Chris asked softly.

"Four years ago at summer solstice," Vin answered immediately.

"You were with Hinkley then," Buck looked puzzled.

"Yeah," Vin muttered.

"How did they keep him from finding out?" Isaiah scowled.

"They didn't, long as they didn't cripple 'er kill me and they paid good they could do whatever they wanted. Tha childer weren't nothin' ta Hinkley they paid him good ta leave 'em be," Vin growled.

"May he rot in hell!" Isaiah hissed in fury.

"Do you remember any names?" Chris asked.

"They didn't use they's names. Callt 'em ugly things is all," Vin's voice shook. "Stolt their names 'fore they stolt they's lives."

"Can you give me descriptions of the kids?" Chris asked. Vin began giving detailed physical descriptions as Chris wrote. Buck got out some paper and a pencil and sat in the corner quietly. Finally Vin stopped talking.

"Is this anywhere close, Junior?" Buck held out several sketch filled pages. Vin looked down at the faces looking back.

"This'ns mouth was a might bigger," Vin offered a picture back. "The othern's is real close," Vin whispered shakily.

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Mary was furious at the arrest of Stanford and Melborn. She started to refuse to release Stanford's resume to Chris.

"Mrs. Travis, you do know what the Freedom of Information Act is, do you not?" Ezra asked calmly. Mary's tirade sputtered to a halt.

"Of course," she gritted. "I'll get you the file. You may not leave my office with it though," she stipulated.

"That will not be necessary," Ezra answered. Mary searched through her files and handed Ezra a folder. Ezra sat down at the desk and quickly scanned through the papers. Pulling out a notepad he listed the towns where Stanford had worked previously.

"Thank you, Mrs. Travis, your assistance in this matter has been of considerable value," Ezra rose from his seat. "Mrs. Travis, I would like you to consider something please. Set aside the source of our information if you will. How in good conscience can you possibly condone not checking the background on a man who is possibly a serial murder? One who targets small children? You have my word that this investigation will be handled with the utmost discretion," Ezra said.

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"Gonna go up ta Heaven's Gate," Vin spoke softly to Chris the next morning. Chris sighed but nodded in acceptance.

"Don't you forget where home is, Cowboy," Chris ordered stretching out his hand he waited. Silently Vin took his arm in the forearm grasp the two men used with no one else. Turning he climbed aboard Peso and rode out.

"Is it a good idea for Junior to be off on his own, Chris?" Buck joined Larabee in front of the jail.

"The walls are closing in on him Buck. He's gone up to Heaven's Gate," Chris said.

"Boy's had more than his share of sorrows. I just don't understand why stuff keeps coming at him this way," Buck mourned.

"Well this time I'm not letting him down," Chris swore softly. "Did Ezra send off those telegrams?"

"Yes, he did," Buck patted Chris shoulder as he went to relieve JD of jail duty.

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After reviewing the case against Melborn and Stanford. Judge Travis dismissed the charges of theft. A soft warning about following procedures was directed toward the lawmen. "You do not want to get on my witness stand and testify on this matter," Travis reminded. "I'm sorry, with no evidence I have to turn them loose on the murder charges," Judge Travis explained.

"You have a witness, Judge," Buck argued.

"Vin's legal situation is in flux. I can't sentence two men to death on his testimony," Travis growled.

"Dammit, Judge, they killed at least nine children," Chris hissed.

"Chris, I don't have a choice. Without supporting evidence they go free," Travis sighed.

"Can you hold them until we get the report from Red Butte? They're digging at the location Vin indicated the bodies are buried?" Ezra demanded.

"The Bill of Rights directly states that an accused person can only be held until his case has been reviewed. They have to be released at that time unless your holding them for trial," the judge answered.

"Dammit, I'm not letting Vin down again," Chris growled.

"You get me evidence today and I'll set a trial date in a heartbeat," the judge responded.

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Chris fumed as the two men walked away from the jail.

"Not a damn thing we can do, pard. The judge says we can't even watch 'em something about their civil rights," Buck grunted.

"Chris, let's get on with the docket," Nathan sighed. "The judge'll want to get to supper over to Mary's."

"Oh, hell, I forgot about Mary. Send Ezra over to get Mary for her hearing," Chris huffed.

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Mary smirked at Chris as she stood before her father-in-law. The case had been heard now they awaited the judge's decision.

"Mary Travis, this court finds you guilty of wanton endangerment, three counts of child abuse in the third degree. One count being to the minor child known as Elizabeth Sullivan. One count being to the minor child known as Devin Tanner. The third count is toward the minor child known as William Travis. Reckless driving, and resisting officers of this court in the pursuance of their duties. I do not feel that your intentions were to deliberately physically harm Elizabeth so that the charge of attempted manslaughter will be dropped. The charge of assault is a very serious one. There is no question that you did attack a minor and strike him repeatedly in an effort to do harm. Your slanderous behavior has done immeasurable harm to a boy who has done nothing but good to you. For that there is no way to make an amends," Travis scowled down from the bench.

"Orrin!" Mary spluttered.

"You will perform restitution to Elly Snyder in payment for her lost pet. You will sew two dresses for Elizabeth for the trauma you inflicted upon that child. These dresses will be brought to Ezra Standish for examination as to their suitability. If they do not meet his standards then you will keep making dress until they do. You will not use your buggy or ride a horse without supervision for the period of one year. You will make a public apology in person and in the paper to Devin Tanner for your behavior towards him. If I feel that this apology is not sincere you will be fined a sum of 1000 credits. If your actions are repeated in any manner this court will remove your son William from your custody for his own safety. Have I made myself clear on these points Mary Travis," The judge said coldly. "As the boy's grandfather I personally have problems leaving the boy in your care. What are you thinking, Mary, teaching him to be a bully and a bigot."

Mary stood mouth agape at the judge's decision. She had anticipated Chris and the others being reprimanded for the way they treated her and now the judge was siding with them.

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"Vin, we tried, son, the judge had to let them go. We didn't have enough evidence," Buck met the tracker in the stables.

"Where are they?" Vin demanded coldly.

"Vin, don't go getting yourself in trouble," Buck coaxed.

"Where are they?" Vin's voice rose.

"They rode out a little while ago, Cowboy," Chris stood at the stable door. "You have to calm down, Vin, it's not going to do any good you going off half-cocked," Chris tried to calm the now panicked Tanner.

"Where's the childer?" Vin demanded rushing for the door.

"What?" Buck looked bewildered.

"Tanight's tha full moon. They do they's evil on tha full moon," Vin turned to Chris in panic.

"Buck, get the rest of the team. Start getting all the kids inside," Chris ordered softly.

"Vin, I want you to stay with me, where everyone can see you. If we have to go hunting. I want you handy," Chris ordered.

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"Billy Travis and Bobby Taylor are missing," Buck reported. "The Tuell boys saw them down by the creek. They ain't there now but their fishing gear is."

"Vin, go down to the creek with Buck find out what you can. I'll saddle the horses," Chris hissed knowing in his heart the boys had been taken by Stanford and Melborn. "Ezra I want you and JW patrolling the town till we get back. JW go get Tiny and Yosemite to help. Stop and tell the Judge what's going on he'll help out too. Isaiah you and Nate saddle up and come down to the creek. Travel in pairs only. If you think it's necessary make them all stay in the church. When JW, Nate and Isaiah left for the stables Chris turned to Ezra. "JW is still young enough ..." Chris' voice trailed off.

"He could be considered prey. I will not let the youngster out of my sight," Ezra promised. Chris mounted up and took the reins of the other two horses leading them to the creek.

"Even I can read that trail, Pard, it was them," Buck sighed. Wordlessly Vin mounted.

"Where to, Vin?" Chris asked calmly.

"They's gonna want as long as possible 'fore midnight fer they's pleasures. Gotta be someplace tha screaming won't be noticed. Close ta running water," Vin muttered to himself.

Isaiah and Nate rode up in time to hear Vin's chilling mutter.

"My cabin," Chris hissed. "Do you think they know about it?"

"Yeah, yer cabin is some place that'd suit 'em fine," Vin nodded.

"There's the old Conway place over at the springs," Nate reminded.

"The old mission on Cherry Creek," Isaiah growled.

"Them's likely spots. That little box spring over close to tha old orchard is over that way too," Vin agreed.

"You two take those three and whatever else you can think of over on the east side," Chris ordered. "Vin, Buck and me will take the south side moving on to the west up to the stage road. You come back at dawn regardless. Use the lantern in the bell tower to signal if you found them," Chris ordered. "And stay together!" He added sharply. Nate and Isaiah turned and rode toward the east.

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"Best cut tha trail iffen they went that way I'll be able to smell 'em, long 'fore we get ta the trail." They headed out fast. Vin began shaking his head. "They ain't been this way. So's they ain't headed fer Chris' shack," he pulled up.

"Damn, where could they have gone?" Buck cussed softly.

"Tha caves at Mark's Peak," Vin spun his horse and thundered off quickly followed by the two officers.

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"Steady, Vin," Chris rubbed the still bony back as Vin hunted for the murderers.

"They's up yonder in tha cave next ta tha waterfall. Hell, Chris why'd it have ta be caves," Vin hissed.

"You didn't have trouble with the caves at the hot tub pool," Chris reminded.

"Chris, I zoned," Vin reminded heatedly.

"OK, caves are a problem. Let's work out a way to get around it. Why'd you zone?" Chris asked calmly.

"Sound, I could hear the dirt movin' 'round us," Vin finally choked.

"So you listen only to voices and the sounds of weapons," Chris coaxed. _I need to find out about this later._

"Heartbeats too, They'll slip out soon as they see our torches," Buck grunted.

"No, they won't, we're not taking torches. Vin's going to lead us in he doesn't need one," Chris smirked.

"Chris!" Vin's eyes were wild.

"You can do this, Tanner. Those boys need you to do this," Chris reminded.

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Vin took a deep breath and started up the hillside. Closely followed by Buck and Chris.

"You sure about this, Chris?" Buck growled.

"As sure as I've ever been of anything," Chris smiled. "Vin's coming into his own today. Today it's him finding himself," Chris smiled grimly.

Vin paused at a cave opening further down the hill taking a deep breath. "Chris, this'n hooks up ta tha cave they's in."

"Can you tell if we can get through from here? Stretch out those senses and check. Just keep a little of your attention here so you can feel my touch," Chris said keeping a hand on his Sentinel.

"Sounds big enough fer even Isaiah ta get through," Vin muttered head tilted slightly.

"Now what do we do, Chris?" Buck waited for Larabee's plan.

"Vin, can you hide their horses good enough they won't be able to find them. That way if they get clear we can still catch them," Chris asked.

"They's hid," Vin smirked and slipped off.

"Now what, Pard?" Buck asked.

"When Vin's back, he and I are going through the cave. You guard that cave mouth, so they don't get away," Chris directed.

"You going to be all right with just to two of you?" Buck asked worriedly.

"Thanks for the offer, Buck, but I don't think you could help in there," Chris smiled.

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"They's hid good," Vin seemed to just materialize.

"Damn, Junior," Buck hissed releasing his hold on his pistol.

"You ready, Cowboy?" Chris asked softly.

"As I'll ever be," Vin muttered. "Chris, sounds carry in caves. We don' need ta be talkin' iffen we intend ta surprise 'em."

"Just let me know what to do somehow," Chris responded. The two men disappeared into the cave's gloom leaving Buck to guard the upper cave entrance.

After moving through the stygian darkness for some ten minutes. /Duck yer head they's an outcrop here./ Vin warned without being aware of it. Chris ducked after he had straightened back up it registered just exactly had happened.

_I heard him warn me. Damn what in hell is happening here? _

Tanner stopped suddenly. His entire body was shaking. The sound of his chattering teeth seemed to echo in the dark silence. Chris gently wrapped his arms around the slender man and rocked slightly. / It's all right. I'm here cowboy. You're not alone this time./

/Chris/

Chris felt the startled wonder in Vin's internal voice. /Right here, what's wrong/

/They's gettin' ready ta do they's evil./

/Keep it together, Vin. If we screw up those kids don't have a chance./

/You keep talkin' ta me whilst I hunt. It won' happen no more. Iffen I have ta hunt 'em down like mad dawgs they's not gettin' away./

/I'll help you hide the bodies./ Larabee's voice shook. Somehow during the exchange Chris had caught flashes of what had happened at Red Butte.

Vin was moving much faster now. Chris followed along without problems. Neither man seemed to be aware of the ease in which they traveled through the unlit maze. Chris was now able to hear the terrified muffled whimpers from the children and the malicious joy in the two men's voices.

/When we go 'round this next outcrop we're gonna be in their light./ Vin warned. /Be best to wait a second till yer eyes adjust some./

/Fine/ Larabee's mental voice was filled with impatience.

/Chris, open yer eyes now all right./

/OH/ Chris sounded sheepish realizing his eyes were closed.

/Kin yah see tha light?/

/ Yeah, do you think we can move all the way in without them noticing./

/Iffen yah don' drag yer feet./ Vin's 'voice' held a strange combination of rage, sorrow, and wondrous joy.

Silently as shadows the hunting pair eased into the light. Light glinted off the blades of the knives laid out on the snowy white cloth. A fire burned brightly and lanterns were lit throughout the cave. Melborn and Stanford had moved the stripped Bobby onto a snow white sheet. The tiny body was bound. The boy was still gagged at this point. The nude, bound and gagged Billy Travis lay against a wall unable to turn away from the set stage.

Chris tensed ready to spring into action.

/Wait they'll go over yonder and strip down. Play some wit' each other 'fore they start on the boy. Won't be payin' no mind ta tha shadas. They'll be away from them knives a piece less danger ta tha youngin's./ Vin projected emotionlessly. Once more Chris picked up flashes of the past from Vin's mind. Vin proved to be right as the two men moved to the corner and began stripping each other.

/You go over by Billy. I'll take care a guarding Bobby./ Vin glided silently away. Once they were in position. The cocking of the two men's weapons filled the room.

"I'd stop what I was doing right now. You're under arrest," Chris' voice was filled with fury. The two men broke a part and stared in horror. "I suggest you head for the entrance there," Chris ordered softly. "Don't tempt my partner he fails real easy," Larabee warned.

"I won't kill 'em, Chris. Figure I'll castrate 'em and let 'em bleed out slow," Vin's voice was soft, calm and very, very certain. "You get Buck in here ta help me. Git tha boys outta here now, Chris. They done been hurt 'nough," Vin ordered.

"Your right, pard, I'll get Buck for you," Chris scooped a boy up in each arm and started out. Vin listened to his guide call out to Buck before exiting the cave.

"I have money," Stanford squeaked.

"I want they's names," Vin's voice was calm. Buck's hurried steps slowed as he entered the cave.

"Junior?" Buck questioned.

"Mr. Stanford is gonna give us tha names a them childer. They want they's names back." Vin's voice sounded strange kind of hollow like it held a 'echo.'

"Junior, don't do nothing stupid now. Judge Travis will hang them all legal," Buck coaxed.

"I ain' gonna touch 'em Buck. Ain' fer me ta do," Vin hissed. "Buck, you best come over here by me".

"What for, Junior?" Buck asked suddenly very nervous.

"They won't hurt yah iffen yer in mah shada," Vin's pupils dilated.

"Who won't hurt me?" Buck demanded.

"The childer"

"What children?" Buck asked gently now worried about where Tanner's mind was going.

"Them they kilt. Seventy-one Buck they kilt seventy-one childer," Vin said sadly.

"Who are you?" Melborn croaked.

"How do you now how many?" Stanford asked in disbelief.

"I'se tha guardian," Vin's voice held controlled power. "They are here. The children that you wronged," Vin seemed to watch something in the shadows. "They want their names back. They cannot rest until they have their names."

"You can't touch us, the judge will hang you," Melborn hissed desperately.

"You will not die. It is for them to release you," Vin waved at the flickering shadows.

"Come on, Bucklin, this ain't a good place fer tha living," Vin gently pushed Buck towards the entrance.

"Vin?" Buck croaked.

"They want they's names back," Vin's voice was now it's normal raspy soft whisper. Vin calmly turned his back on the murderers and left pushing the protesting Buck in front of him.

"Vin!" Buck's voice shook.

"They want they's names Buck," Vin sighed.

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"Where are they?" Chris demanded now certain it had been a very bad idea leaving Vin with the prisoners. The two little boys now slept wrapped in blankets still clinging tightly to Larabee.

"Vin made me leave them behind," Buck scowled.

"They're alive?" Chris breathed a sigh of relief.

"They was when we left 'em," Vin said calmly.

"Won't they be able to get out the way we got in?" Chris demanded.

"They won't be goin' nowhere," Vin's eyes held a timeless wisdom as he looked over at his guide. "I'll go git they's horses," Vin said as he ghosted into the gathering darkness.

"Buck?" Chris scowled.

"Something happened in there. Made my skin crawl, Chris. It was like the very air was angry," Buck tried to explain. "It was terrifying, Chris," Buck admitted.

Vin came back with the extra horses. "Best start back, they's folks is gonna be worrying themselves grey," Vin looked peaceful as he studied the sleeping children.

"Have to get their clothes," Chris muttered.

"Won't be nothin' worth saving except fer they's boots," Vin answered calmly. "Buck and I'll git 'em when we bring out the bodies." Chris and Buck exchanged bewildered looks. "Come on Bucklin," Vin headed into the cave.

Buck returned carrying a body on his shoulder wrapped in a blanket. His white face and shaking hands proclaimed how badly shaken up he was. Vin followed calmly carrying a second body. He dropped a pair of boots beside Chris on his way to the horses. Silently he tied the body to belly down over the saddle. Before returning to Chris.

"Gonna git tha other stuff. I'll bring Billy's boots when I come," Vin said. Leaning forward he sniffed along Larabee's neck for a long moment.

"Vin?" Chris asked softly.

"I'se fine, Chris," Vin smiled and headed into the cave once more.

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Riding back the three men took turns carrying the children. Vin lead the way as the night deepened.

"Junior, what happened to those two?" Buck demanded shakily. His mind still lingered over the terror on the dead faces.

"They got their names back," Vin's teeth glinted in the darkness.

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Arriving back in town the three men were met by Ezra and JW. "You got them," JW smiled in relief.

"Need to get the boys back to their mommas," Buck looked haunted.

"The ladies are currently occupying Isaiah's sanctuary," Ezra informed them while his eyes rested upon the tarp wrapped loads on the two horses.

"Ez, would yah help me wit' tha hosses? Whilst Buck and Chris see ta tha childer?" Vin asked.

"Certainly, Mr. Tanner," Ezra held bridles while Buck and Chris dismounted with their burdens. Taking up all the reins the two men headed towards the livery.

"Need ta dump tha trash first," Vin led them by the back of the undertaker's. Cutting the ropes he simply shoved the bodies off the saddles leaving them to lay in the dirt by the door. Ezra quirked an eyebrow but said nothing as they continued on to the livery.

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Mary Travis and Cheiri Taylor were kneeling at the alter when the boys were carried in.

"Oh thank you, God," Cheiri sprang up and raced down the aisle unerringly heading for her son cradled in Buck's long arms. Bobby woke to kisses and hugs secure in his mother's arms. Tearfully they just held each other tightly. "Thank you, Oh, thank you," Cheiri cried softly rocking her son in her arms.

Mary moved much slower down the aisle. She seemed almost hesitant to touch the child in Chris' arms.

"Was he hurt?" she whispered.

"We got there in time. He's shook up and scared is all," Chris assured. Mary gathered her son into her arms and sat down on the floor with an unladylike plop.

"Oh, baby," she whispered holding tightly.

"Momma," Billy woke and cried out. For long moments the only sounds were those of comforting mothers. "Momma, you're hugging too tight," Billy protested. Laughter broke out the sound seemed to drive back the shadows in the sanctuary. Vin and Ezra stood at the back of the sanctuary simply watching. The resigned longing in the hunter's eyes was easily seen.

_Vin needs a mother to hug him too tightly as well. _Ezra thought sadly. _Perhaps that virago Netty Wells. She is a fierce protector. She's always nursing some wild thing back to health. Yes I do believe I'll be giving Mrs. Wells a nudge in Vin's direction._ Ezra felt a weight lift at his decision.

The judge and JW entered the room and waited quietly for the emotional reunion to calm. "Thank you, son," Judge Travis said sincerely laying a gentle hand on Vin's shoulder.

"Needed done," Vin shifted out of reach.

Mary's sudden shocked intake of breath as she discovered her son's nudity. "What did you let that animal do to my son!" she hissed dangerously.

"I told you we got there before things went bad," Chris soothed.

"Why did you leave Tanner alone with my son?" she demanded furiously.

"What? Mary, he saved Billy's life," Chris breathed in disbelief.

"Did you allow that perversion near my son?" Mary's voice raised into a screech. The raised voice startled the already upset children and sent them once more into tears.

"Mary Travis, at no time was Vin ever alone with either boy," Buck snarled protectively. "He wasn't the danger to them and you damn well know it," Buck snarled.

"Vin was the one that hunted those animals down wasn't he?" Cheiri Taylor's soft voice asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Taylor," Chris gathered his temper and locked it down under full control.

"I won't ever be able to thank him enough for bringing my Bobby home," she whispered.

Mary's fragile control broke and she began to berate everyone present. Billy shouldn't have let Bobby talk him into going fishing. Chris and his deputies should have stopped Vin from stealing the children. How dare the Judge allow him to run loose and attack her son.

"It was Melborn and Stanford who took the boys," Chris growled softly.

Mary was off on another rant as Chris libeled two good upstanding citizens. Four Corners was fortunate to have teachers of such high standing. The idea of accusing such fine men. Didn't he realize the repercussions to their careers that kind of accusation could have? While he allowed that perversion to wander the streets freely.

Suddenly a loud crack filled the air. Mary's tirade stopped in mid word. Cheiri Taylor stood rubbing her stinging hand. "I've been wanting to do that for years, Mary Travis. Shut up. You should be sending prayers to God for your son's deliverance. Instead you're attacking one of his saviors," Cheiri said calmly. "Your son needs you. Leave justice to people who have more than paper in their heads. Where's Vin?" she asked in concern.

"He's right ...," Ezra's voice trailed off as he realized Vin had slipped off during Mary's explosion.

The soft creak of a step brought all eyes toward the bell tower. "Hung tha lantern so's 'Siah and Nate'll know," Vin's soft voice was calm. "Anything else you need doing, Chris?"

"I can't think of anything," Chris sighed his worried eyes taking in the tracker's calm.

"Best get Mortimer ta take care a tha bodies," Vin reminded.

"Yeah, Ezra can you and Buck see to it for me?" Chris said distractedly.

"Certainly, we will join you at the saloon. Our lovely Inez has left meals for everyone," Ezra directed.

"Chris, could you and Vin escort Mrs. Taylor and Bobby home. Mary and I need to talk," Travis sighed. Billy snuffled from his blanket still sitting on the floor. "Come here, son," Travis held out his arms to his grandson.

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Chris asked the judge to hold a public inquest over the Stanford and Melborn fiasco thinking taking it public would put and end to the rumors and prevent any unpleasant backlash from their deaths. Already there was speculation and innuendo suggesting the men had been murdered to cover up someone else's crimes.

Two detailed journals were discovered among the dead men's belongings, describing the murders in great detail. Each victim was identified by number all seventy-one of them. What had been done with the bodies was not part of the record though.

So an inquest was held over Stanford and Melborn's deaths. Cause of death was determined to be natural causes. There wasn't a mark of any kind on either body. Nathan's report and a substantiating report from the healers at Eagle Bend ruled out poisoning. No one could explain the look of fear frozen on the men's faces at their death.

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Vin rode up to the jail's porch the morning after. He was leading six saddled horses.

"Are we going somewhere?" Chris asked in amusement.

"Red Butte, figure we kin give'm a decent place ta rest since tha sheriff over that way can't be bothered ta find 'em." Vin leaned forwards resting his hands on the saddlehorn.

"Sounds good to me," Chris stood up and moved to his horse. Buck followed without comment. JD smiled and climbed into his saddle.

"They's gonna be dirt," Vin looked down at Ezra.

"The company is good. Perhaps just once I will engage in menial labor," Standish smiled up.

"I'm not letting all of you out of my sight together. No telling how many stitches I'd have to put in," Nathan huffed. Then a wide grin lit up his face. A gentle hand patted Vin's thigh as he passed him.

"Be nice ta have some words said over 'em, Preacher," Vin spoke softly.

"I'd be honored my friend deeply honored," Josiah smiled and headed for his horse.

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"Junior's more settled now," Buck mused as they rode home from Red Butte. Their sad duty was now finished.

"Yep," Chris smiled at the carefree laughter as JD and Vin thundered past in a race to the distant creek ahead.

"He knew their names," Buck noted.

"Said they told him," Chris nodded.

"Before or after, Chris?" Buck asked softly.

"Does it matter, Buck?" Chris looked over.

"Come to think of it, it doesn't matter at all," Buck grinned and kicked his grey mare into pursuit with a wild yell.

"It's not over you know," Ezra rode up beside Chris.

"I know," Chris sighed.

"There was a collapsed grave. He dug his way out," Ezra breathed horror filled his tone.

"Yeah, he did," Chris looked over. "Eli Joe thought it was a great joke."


	27. MINE

27. MINE

Buck and Chris were holed up in the jail as they decided how to deal with the most recent trouble that came in with the stage. "I should have expected something like this," Chris snarled. "Mary left with Billy almost ten days ago now. She figures she's out of Orrin's jurisdiction."

"He ain't gonna be happy" Buck growled tossing the summons down on the desk.

"We don't have a choice," Chris sighed rubbing his temples. "I'll have to make arrangements for some Rangers to come in while we're gone," Chris growled.

"This prosecuting attorney demanding all of us to come to Cascade. Who the hell is supposed to guard the county?" Buck stormed.

"He's yanking our chain Buck. He's trying to get us off balance before we ever get there," Chris gritted.

"Are you gonna tell him or would you rather I did?" Buck calmed himself.

"I'll tell him. I'd like you to be there though. He trusts you," Chris muttered.

Tanner was out at Chris' cabin when they finally caught up with him. The explanation was not going well. Vin had literally backed himself into a corner, his eyes darting about wildly for a means of escape.

"Hound cloak." The whispered word came out as a moan of despair.

"Vin, I'm sorry, cowboy," Chris whispered carefully not crowding the panicked Tanner. "Until your position is settled legally, Attorney Snelling has the right to demand the cloak while we travel to Cascade for the trial. This should get the UNPK off your back for good."

"I gotta go?" Vin's voice could barely be heard.

"Yeah, Junior, you've got to go. If you don't appear they can put Chris in jail. He's responsible for you," Buck explained softly.

Vin shivered and rocked himself. Finally the shaggy head nodded. "I'll go," he promised softly. "Chris, I ain' got no cloak we burnt tha' other'n," Vin reminded.

"We have three weeks. I'll have Joel Taggert send one out," Chris growled.

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A few days later the men silently entered the sheriff's office with the dreaded package. Buck fingered the rough scratchy material and snarled. "It'll irritate Junior to death." Holding up the medium gray garment Ezra examined it in distaste. It was a crude garment, having to be pulled over the wearer's head, a heavy hood and long sleeves would swallow up Vin in it's folds completely.

"This will not do at all," Ezra tossed it back onto the desk "What do the regulations require as far as a cloak?" he asked calmly.

"A loose fitting medium gray cloak covering the hound from ankle to wrist having a large hood capable of protecting the hound from excess visual stimulation," JD read from the manual.

"A veil is not required?" Ezra asked.

"Doesn't seem to be," JD studied the listings in the UNPK manual.

"I will produce a suitable cloak for Vin," Ezra growled as he left the jail.

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"Mr. Tanner, I require your presence at Mrs. Madison's shop," Ezra approached Vin the next morning. Shrugging the tracker ambled along beside the gambler. Stepping into the dressmaker's storefront Vin stared hard at Ezra for a moment before following him into the back. Tanner slammed to a halt. Gasping for breath his vision darkened as the pile of familiar gray cloth on the chair registered.

"Good heavens!" Mrs. Madison's voice rose.

"Mr. Tanner!" Ezra spoke sharply.

"He's going down, catch him," Mrs. Madison snapped.

"Vin!" Ezra's voice sounded strange. Vin faintly heard the distressed voices of Ezra and Mrs. Madison as his world went dark.

Mrs. Madison's worried brown eyes greeted the tracker's confused blue gaze. "You lay still, honey," she smiled gently while chaffing Tanner's icy hands. Vin blinked in bewilderment. Ezra was hovering over the motherly woman's shoulder concern etched on the normally unreadable features. Tanner's feet were raised onto a chair his head was pillowed on the little dressmaker's lap as he lay on the floor.

"Why's I laying on Mrs. Madison's floor?" Vin asked faintly. Mrs. Madison's wrinkled features started regaining their color.

"You fainted. Gave me quite a start, Vin Tanner," she smiled down. "Since I don't figure you're in the family way. I'll tell you like I tell the rest of my customers, the fainting will stop if you loosen that corset," she teased. "Honestly child you need to eat better," she fussed over the still pale Tanner. Vin blushed and moved his head off of the sweet natured woman's lap. Carefully Ezra helped him sit up. "You sit there and don't move," She commanded as she climbed to her feet and disappeared through a door.

"She sounds like Nate don' she?" Vin whispered. Ezra nodded silently in agreement.

"I apologize I should have warned you . . . ," Ezra's voice trailed off.

"Ain' yer fault Ez. How'd yah know I'd up and swoon like some priss," Vin muttered in embarrassment.

Mrs. Madison returned with a heavy mug. "Now you drink this," she ordered handing it to the still shaky tracker. Vin flinched but accepted the mug. He took a sniff and discovered it to only be tea heavily laced with sugar.

"Thank yah, ma'am," Vin rasped softly.

"Here's an apple. It'll hold you until were done here," she fussed over the tracker. "Now then. Let's get this fitting over with," she smiled. Vin stood and waited for direction. "Sweetie, you're going to have to take your jacket off," she gently tugged at a sleeve.

Vin gulped and pulled away. "Ain' fittin'," he protested softly.

"Young man, you let me be the judge of that," she snorted. Ezra stood back in amusement watching Vin submit to the mothering. Mrs. Madison finally got the leather coat off the reluctant tracker all the while tisking at the boy's thinness. "Child needs to eat more," she fussed. The dressmaker carried over a medium gray cloak.

There was a silvery sheen to the unusual material and it was lined with a royal blue contrast of the same fabric. Vin stood uncomfortably as the tiny woman slid his arms into sleeves and settled the fabric onto his shoulders. Tanner studied the loops and buttons made out of a matching royal blue on the front opening. This garment was nothing like the hated hound cloak.

"It's sa smooth," Vin fingered the fine material.

"Mr. Standish had it brought in just for you. It's called silk. They say it's made for the cocoon of a special kind of caterpillar," Mrs. Madison enthused as she adjusted the fall of the cloak.

"Feels mighty fine. Thank yah, Ez," Vin said softly.

"You're quite welcome, Vin," Ezra smiled as he watched the sensitive fingers smooth the material.

"Now you stand still so I can mark the hem and sleeves," she ordered. Quickly hooking the frog fastenings she carefully turned up a cuff on the right sleeve so she could mark the lining.

"Mighty perty color," Vin admired.

"It's called royal blue. That's what color of blue it is," Mrs. Madison waited patiently as Vin examined the exposed lining. Ezra wordlessly stepped over and turned up the other sleeve to expose the lining on it.

"Perhaps a cuff to allow the blue to show?" Ezra suggested.

"Oh, my. That does set it off doesn't it?" Mrs. Madison smiled.

"You could trim the front edges with some of this blue cording," Ezra laid a piece of trim against the lining showing how well the two shades matched.

"That will look wonderful," the tiny bird like woman agreed. "Nobody will confuse our boy with a hound in this cloak," she growled protectively. Vin's eyes filled at the proud little pat the little woman bestowed on his hand. "Now to mark this hem," she knelt down pretending not to see how close to tears the tracker was.

"Let me get my stool so I can fix that stupid hood," she snorted. Pulling over her stool she climbed up and adjusted the hood over Vin's head.

"Mrs. Madison, if I may," Ezra reached up and turned back the edges of the hood. It now framed the fine features rather than hiding Vin in it's depths.

"Doesn't the royal blue bring out the color of his eyes?" Mrs. Madison breathed. "Ezra Standish, you stay in your saloon, young man. I don't need the competition," She warned laughingly. Vin shifted miserably. "There, now. All done with this silly cloak," she patted the tracker's shoulder as she climbed down off her stool. Gently she slid the material off the tense man.

"How much does I owe yah, ma'am?" Vin asked softly.

"You've unloaded my supplies six times now. I don't care to be beholding to no man. You take this cloak. When you get back, I'll make it into shirts for you. Then I'll call us even," the feisty little woman stood with her chin thrust out pugnaciously.

"Yes, ma'am," Vin shifted uncomfortably.

"I have a couple of shirts for you to wear for court. Ezra gave me a pair of your pants so I had some measurements. Now try these on for me," she ordered.

Color rose into the embarrassed tracker's cheeks. "Sweety, I raised five boys and six brothers. You don't have a thing I haven't already seen," Mrs. Madison laughed kindly.

"Ain' proper," Vin whispered miserably.

"Tell you what, I'll go out front and you call me when your decent," she offered.

Vin nodded quickly. Once Mrs. Madison stepped out and shut the door behind her Vin began pulling off shirts.

"Three shirts, Mr. Tanner?" Ezra asked curiously.

"I'se always cold," Vin muttered faintly.

Ezra sighed. _Camouflage as well. He went so long with no control of his own life whatsoever it makes him feel safer. He is still far too thin._ _Undergarments. I believe Mrs. Potter has some silk in stock. The question is how to get him to wear them. _

A heavy cotton brushed denim shirt in a garnet red was pulled on and buttoned. Ezra nodded in appreciation of Mrs. Madison's choice of color. A pair of heavy cotton high-waisted trousers in a dark brown were pulled on next. Vin buttoned buttons and pulled the suspenders into place.

"Very nice," Ezra exclaimed. "Mrs. Madison, he's dressed."

The motherly woman reentered. She checked the fit of the shirt. Tanner almost jumped out of the new clothes when she tested the fit of the waist band on the pants.

"Hush. Are they comfortable? They're not chafing or too tight now are they?" she demanded.

"No, Ma'am," Vin moved out of reach.

"All right. Now try the others on and I'll be back to check them," she smiled as she left the work room. Vin changed into black pants and an amber colored shirt. After checking the fit, Mrs. Madison finally let him change back into his own clothes.

"Here, Sweetie, you've been awful patient," Mrs. Madison handed Vin a napkin filled with oatmeal cookies. Vin's shy little smile was worth every bit of effort. "I'll have everything ready day after tomorrow," she promised as the two men left her store.

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Sighs of relief were breathed when the ranger company finally rode into town the evening before their departure. The seven men had put off leaving until the last possible moment hoping that the rangers would arrive before they had to go. They were cutting it very close since they had to leave on the morning stage if they were to arrive in Cascade on time.

Isaiah and Buck shared a laugh as Vin subjected the arriving rangers to a thorough inspection. "We're here to relieve you until after the upcoming trial, Sheriff Larabee." The Ranger Lieutenant spoke to the lean man, dressed in black.

"We appreciate it, Lieutenant," Larabee nodded politely.

"Lieutenant. O'Neal, sir, Kevin O'Neal." The officer smiled in a friendly manner.

"Lieutenant O'Neal would you allow a scan?" Chris asked quietly.

"A scan?" What kind of scan?" Lieutenant O'Neal asked curiously.

"Sensory, our guardian would feel better about it if you would," Chris explained.

"Sensory? I didn't realize you had a hound stationed here," O'Neal frowned. The officer was now worried about how he would care for the poor creature with his handler leaving town.

"No hound," Chris snorted. "A Sentinel."

"What's that?" the Lieutenant asked.

"Lieutenant Davis, if they have a real Sentinel you'd better allow it," the curly haired Sargent blurted.

"Sentinel, Sarge?" the lieutenant looked over at the noncom.

"A natural sir," the man almost seemed to bounce in his saddle he was so excited.

"A natural hound?" the officer asked in disbelief.

"No, sir, a Sentinel is much more. They were tribal guardians. He would have a genetic imperative to claim a territory location or possibly a clan or tribe instead. He would protect and provide for his territory. Hunting, police, weather warnings, natural disasters that kind of thing," the sergeant listed excitedly.

"So what's the difference between a Sentinel and a hound?" the lieutenant demanded.

A Sentinel would be above average intelligence, very athletic, somewhat of a loner, they make excellent parents, implacable enemies, very gentle and nurturing among his tribe and could easily be a stone cold killer under the wrong circumstances," the sergeant continued without pause.

"Where in hell did you learn all that, Professor Stoddard?" The big officer laughed.

"Mom's a Sandberg. Her however many greats grandfather was Blair Sandberg, the first real researcher for sentinels," the little sergeant explained.

"Okay, let your whatever scan us," O'Neal said.

"Cool. A real Sentinel," the little sergeant bounced. "So you're the guide?" he asked Chris.

"How'd you know that?" Buck demanded.

"He was the one that asked about letting us be scanned," the little ranger answered.

"Vin. center and search," Chris ordered. Tanner didn't move he was standing ignored by everyone in the shadows. Suddenly Vin realized that Chris was beside him, rubbing his back and calling his name. He blinked a few times as his eyes met with those of his bond mate.

"Don't scare me like that. Why in hell did you zone?" he demanded.

"Unbonded guide," Vin fidgeted. Larabee grasped Vin's neck and shook him slightly.

"Mine!" Chris hissed.

"Yers," Vin agreed sniffing along Chris' neck. Chris pushed Vin back gently after a moment and turned with a snarl. A few quick steps and he had pulled the little sergeant roughly out of the saddle and held him suspended off the ground.

"My territory, MY CLAN, **MY SENTINEL, MINE!**" the enraged Larabee warned.

"No challenge, man," the sergeant hung limply and spoke submissively.

"Sheriff Larabee, turn loose of my man!" O'Neal thundered.

Chris' cold green eyes pinned the Lieutenant in place.

"Lieutenant, it's all right, the sheriff's just marking his territory," the sergeant calmed.

"Why the pissing match?" O'Neal demanded.

"Two guides, one Sentinel," the sergeant breathed making sure not to glance in Vin's direction.

"I take it that this is a bad thing?" O'Neal growled.

"It should settle out shortly, sir. I'm not about to challenge a bonded pair," Sgt. Jacob Blair Stoddard hissed.

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The next morning the seven members of the sheriff's department met for breakfast before catching the stage headed for Blake's Spring the closest railway depot for the northern line. Vin was carrying saddle bags and a bedroll.

"Junior, they do have beds in Cascade," Buck chuckled.

"Soap," Vin muttered reminding Buck of his unpredictable allergies. Tanner sat down at the table. When his meal arrived he seemed to only be moving the food around very little actually made its way to his mouth.

"Vin, you need to eat," Chris urged.

"Got frogs," Vin sighed softly.

"Now, it's not going to be that bad," Nathaniel soothed.

"Nate, yah don' know how it is," Vin raised shuttered eyes to meet the healer's gaze. An uncomfortable silence fell over the others as the plates were cleared.


	28. by Stage

28. by Stage

Breakfast had come and gone and the seven men were now gathered at the stage stop awaiting its arrival. Many of the townspeople had turned out to see them off, and the men soon found themselves in possession of a large hamper of food along with a paper wrapped bundle that joined the rest of their gear.

"Have you got your soap and such?" Nathaniel asked. Vin nodded as he attempted to fade into the shadows created by the early morning sun.

"You got your court clothes JW?" Buck looked over.

"Yes, Buck," JW rolled his eyes.

The stage soon pulled to a stop in front of the milling crowd of well-wishers, the baggage was loaded into the boot and the men prepared to board.

Chris nodded in reply to the words of encouragement as he approached Vin and placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. "It's time, Cowboy"

"Bye" "See you soon" "Give 'em hell" "Take care of our boy" "Don't forget to eat" A chorus of voices called as the stage pulled out.

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The seven men settled in for a long trip. The stage company claimed the stage would carry ten passengers,

It was much closer to a _very_ _friendly_ eight.

Soon six of them were sharing stories and playing euchre. Vin sat quietly looking out a window. Head shakes and worried frowns were exchanged over Vin.

Two hours later the driver called down. "We're coming into a relay for fresh horses. Best stretch your legs and such. If you're hungry I'd suggest you getting into that hamper," he commented cryptically. "Nobody'll willingly eat here more than once."

Vin sighed deeply as the stage pulled to a stop. Everyone clamored out to stretch. When Vin exited the stage Ezra offered the cloak apologetically. "Unfortunately, Mr. Tanner, we are no longer in Travis County. Sheriff Larabee no longer has the authority to override directives." Standish's drawl was thick.

Vin nodded and slid off his leather coat before donning the gray cloak. A visible shudder shook the slender frame as Vin pulled the hood up fully so he could hide from the view of the strangers.

"It's a . . . hound," a hostler snarled.

"You leave that filthy thing out here. I won't have it in my station." A belligerent woman in a filthy apron blocked the station doorway. Chris froze in shock. Nathaniel glanced over the woman's shoulder into the station and physically cringed.

The tables were covered in filth. Plates with leftover scraps of food were covered in flies. The stench of the rotting food and unwashed bodies was overwhelming.

"I'll be staying out here with Vin," Jackson backed away holding his nose as the noxious odor coming from the building made his eyes burn.

"I would consider it an honor if you would allow me to join you, Mr. Tanner. I much prefer civilized company," Ezra sniffed in disdain, turning his back on the station.

"If we step in there we'll be dead by tomorrow, JW," Buck exclaimed.

"Those ladies gave that hamper to all of us and I intend to get my share," JW sprinted back toward the stage.

"We got ten minutes, folks, before we pull out," the guard riding shotgun reminded.

"Hamper on the stage. Refill the canteens if the water here is any good," Chris ordered. After a quick walk around to stretch their legs all the men were back on the stage.

"Damn, I'm awful sorry to have to do this fellas," Happy, the driver looked decidedly _un_happy. "Well now that we are out of Travis County . . . company rules say you gotta ride up top, Vin," he shrugged and muttered in embarrassment.

Wordlessly Vin climbed out a window and up on top of the stage.

"Hell," Buck huffed.

"I'm riding with Vin. There'll be more room to stretch out anyway," Chris snarled exiting the coach.

"Mr. Larabee," Ezra handed Chris a napkin covered plate and a canteen.

"Where's Vin's?" Chris demanded.

"Mr. Larabee, I am neither your servant nor a waiter. Get your own," Ezra snorted.

A soft chuckle came from above. "Thank yah, Ez," an arm appeared removing the plate from Chris' grasp. "Yah best hurry, Cowboy. They's about to pull out," Vin warned.

Chris quickly climbed up onto the roof. Larabee shook his head as he took note of Vin's position.

Tanner was propped up against Ezra's trunk, carefully padded by assorted bundles and bags, the tracker had made himself a comfortable nest.

"You got room for me?" Chris chuckled.

"Rekin so," Vin scooted over a little.

"Here, Mr. Larabee," Ezra's arm and hand appeared holding up a plate for Chris.

"Thought you weren't a servant?" Chris reminded.

"I am pleased with the extra room provided by your absence. I would prefer that hunger does not drive you back into my vicinity," Standish sniffed.

They were soon underway. Vin and Chris ate their meals in silence atop the swaying stage.

Vin gave a sated groan as he finished the last of his pie.

"That was really good," Chris agreed laying back and rubbing his full belly.

"Hey, up there," Buck called. "You all take this or JW is gonna pop," Buck lifted the hamper up. Vin snagged the handles bringing the hamper into the nest.

"Hey, Frank. Yah want some of this food?" Vin asked as he investigated the hamper's contents.

"I have to keep guard," Frank grunted.

"Iffen yer willing I'll ride shotgun whilst yah git a bite ta eat," Vin offered. "Then I'll spell Happy so he can."

"Rules don' say nothin' about him riding shotgun or driving," Happy stated.

Vin gave the reins back after Happy finished eating. "Where'd you learn to handle an eight horse hitch kid?" Happy asked.

"Never drove eight 'fore. I'se drove six whilst I'se wit' the Comanche," Vin answered peacefully.

"Comanche? Good folks with horses," Happy said thoughtfully.

Vin moved back to the nest and was soon napping. Chris thoughtfully studied the curled body. _You tried to warn us didn't you, Cowboy? This trip is going to be a nightmare for you, but I've got your back._

7777777

Arriving at the next relay station, Vin stayed on the roof while the others stretched their legs. He watched silently as a woman with a bundled baby and a small child boarded.

"It's gonna be crowded down there," Chris smirked as he rejoined Vin.

"Children two and under do not require tickets," Ezra groaned looking up.

"Load up. We're pulling out," Happy yelled as he took his seat.

Most of an hour had passed before things began to get interesting.

"Stop this thing. I'll walk to Cascade," JW yelled. Happy laughed and pulled up.

"JW?" Buck asked in confusion.

"The kid bit me," JW growled. "Have you got room up there, guys?" JW asked.

"Come on," Chris laughed.

Thirty minutes later the debonair gambler was clamoring up the side to the still moving stage aided by Vin and JW.

"Traitor," Isaiah barked to the disappearing boots.

Ezra's garments explained his change in seating. His clothing was slathered and streaked with small hand prints.

"Insufferably rude woman," Ezra huffed trying to remove the worst of the stains with a damp handkerchief as he made himself comfortable amidst the rapidly growing group of men.

So the journey continued. Vin appeared to nap while the others held a lazy conversation.

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At the next stop Buck begged "Yah got room up there?"

"No," came the chorus of voices.

"Aww! Come on!" Buck wheedled as he stood on a wheel before climbing on up.

Chris and JW pushed him off. He landed on his butt in the dust and looked up from his rather undignified position. "Come on guys".

"Yah smell like . . . " Vin growled, his nose wrinkled in disgust.

"I know what I smell like," Buck grimaced. "Maybe Isaiah can cast out demons 'cause that kid is possessed."

"Ma'am, I don't anger easily, but if you allow that little devil to bite, hit, kick or otherwise damage my person again. I will take things in hand myself," Isaiah warned in a deep rumble.

"How dare you!" the woman huffed.

"He can ride for free, lady, but he can ride in a trunk if he keeps this up," Happy growled. "I'm out of room up top. If these gentlemen insist, I'll have to shift the luggage and the hound down here," Happy grumbled.

Malcolm, the station chief hurried over to see what the hold up was. The stage was already fifteen minutes behind schedule.

"A hound on a public conveyance," the woman screeched.

"Fare was paid, ma'am," Happy noted calmly.

"You're allowing a dangerous, violent animal around citizens," she stormed.

"Well, madam, the driver has refrained from abandoning your child alongside the road," Ezra snapped.

"I meant the hound!" she screeched once more.

"Has been quite civilized unlike that little heathen," Nathaniel finally spoke up.

"Jason is just high spirited," she protested the attacks upon her little darling.

"No, ma'am, he's ill-mannered and that is _your_ fault," Chris growled as he clamored down.

"Bucklin, what time is it?" Vin's eyes danced.

"Why don't you ask one of them vultures perched up there with you?" Buck growled.

"'Cause they's still got they's watches. Ez, how much pin money was in yer coat pocket?" Vin asked calmly

Startled exclamations filled the air. "Where in . . . ?" "I've been robbed" "Hey, where's my book?"

"Vin?" Chris looked up.

"Stuff is in tha baby's bag. Little Jason is a might light fingered. Isaiah, yer cross is in tha boy's pocket," Vin announced.

"I never," the mother huffed.

"Does your son take things often?" Chris asked sharply.

"He'd never do anything like this. How dare you accuse my baby of stealing," she cried daintily into her kerchief.

"Of course he has,"Ezra growled. "It takes quite a bit of training to pick a pocket so well."

"Mr. Tanner, would you please demonstrate your talents and scan the . . . lady," Ezra requested.

"Heartbeat jumped twenty beats a minute when she answered Larabee. Respiration is rapid, smells real nervous," Vin responded. "most likely lyin'."

The woman's mouth fell open.

"Ma'am, would you empty the baby's bag for Deputy Standish?" Malcolm's lips twitched.

"Yes, ma'am, I don't guess you've been introduced. This is Sheriff Chris Larabee and his deputies," Happy grinned.

"Oh, my," she whispered in dismay.

Emptying the bag revealed Buck's watch, Ezra's day money, JW's book, and a set of Nathaniel's forceps. A growing pile of small valuable trinkets was sorted out.

Wordlessly Isaiah held out his hand for the cross.

"I can't swear to it but that watch with the horseshoe fob sure looks like Lamont Tedroe's," Malcolm scowled.

"He's only two," the woman tried to minimize the situation.

"Mom, I'm three," the boy reminded proudly holding up three fingers.

"You owe me fare, lady," Happy scowled. The flustered woman jumped when the baby in her arm's hacked.

"That's some cough. You best let me check him out," Nathaniel frowned in concern.

"Weren't no cough. That were a bark," Vin looked over the edge of the roof.

"What?" Nathaniel looked up trying to figure out what the difference was.

"It's a dawg," Vin rasped in amusement.

"We crowded up like that for a dog?" JW fumed.

Company says critters can't ride in the passenger area. It's written right there on the door," Happy snapped angrily. "Cheating the stage line. Hiding a dog as a baby and she has the gall to fuss about Vin Tanner," Frank roared.

"Will you all watch her until we can get to Blake's Spring so we can turn her over to the sheriff there?" Malcolm asked

"Damn," Chris huffed softly. "We'll just have to leave the boy here," he decided.

"You can't leave that kid here. I don't have time to watch him," the station chief yelped.

"We have to take the boy into protective custody," Isaiah groaned.

"A minor can't ride with a prisoner. That's the law, Chris," Nathaniel reminded.

"Let the woman ride up top," Frank suggested.

"Vin's a minor," Chris began to get tickled over the whole mess.

"Does a hound count?" Frank looked embarrassed.

"Court hasn't ruled on Vin's situation," Ezra began to smirk.

"Vin can't ride in the coach. That damn company rule," Happy huffed.

"Is there anything that says the boy can't ride with . . . Vin you called him?" the station master asked calmly.

Looks were exchanged. "Ezra?" several voices asked.

"There is no regulation that I am aware of. Does the coach line have a ruling on children up top?" Ezra asked.

"Nope, not that I know of," Happy answered.

"Put the dog in his basket and put it up top," Happy growled.

"Snookums is high strung," the woman wailed.

"He's mean," the little boy warned.

"Is it a dog?" Buck exclaimed as the perfumed and beribboned creature was removed from its blanket. A wicked little snarl and it snapped at Buck.

"They's perty good eatin'," Vin remarked looking down at the ill natured animal.

"Please don't let him hurt my Snookums," the woman blubbered.

"I've got a chicken crate you can put that fuzzy rat in and fasten it on back," the thoroughly irritated station master snarled. "Stage is already twenty minutes behind."

7777777

Soon they were on the last leg of their stage ride. Ezra, Nathaniel, Isaiah and Buck rode in the stage with the prisoner. Chris, JW and the boy rode up top with Vin now. A constant high pitched yipping could be heard from the back of the stage.

"You start acting up and I'll paddle your butt," Chris warned the boy of the biting, and thieving from earlier.

"Yes, sir!" the boy gulped.

"Yah got a name?" Vin asked softly.

"Jason. My name is Jason," the boy studied Tanner nervously.

"That's a good strong name," Vin nodded.

"JW," Vin nudged Dunne.

"Huh?" JW looked up from his book. Vin indicated the dejected little boy.

"Jason's hungry. How's 'bout yah gettin' in tha' basket and fetchin' him out a sandwich," Vin suggested.

"Oh, sure. I'm sorry, Jason. If you need something ask," JW smiled as he fished around in the bottomless hamper.

A wary look came to the boy's dark eyes when JW offered a sandwich. The youngster's eyes darted between Chris and the enticing food.

"We have to feed prisoners. It's the law," Chris spoke from his sprawled position.

The boy grabbed the offered sandwich and scooted back, proceeding to fill his mouth to overflowing.

"Little bits, Jason er it'll be comin' back on yah," Vin warned softly. Jason slowed down his starved gulping.

Chris frowned and sat up. /Vin/

/Boy's been missing meals . . . a lot, Chris/

"There's plenty, son. If you want more you can have it," Chris said kindly.

The three men watched as Jason savored the simple meal. The companionable silence was only disturbed by the shrill barking from the caged dog.

A peevish Standish called up. "Can anyone get a clear shot and silence that cur?" His demand was met by a high pitched shriek and a non-stop flow of unladylike language.

"Vin, get some cookies out of that basket and pass them around. Maybe we can sweeten Ez's disposition at least," Chris laughed. Before long Jason had found his way onto Chris' lap where he dozed peacefully.

"What's going to happen to him?" JW asked uncomfortably.

"That's gonna be up to the judge. Have to report the boy's been neglected," Chris sighed sadly.

"What's wrong wit' tha' woman. Boy's hungry but tha damn dawg's been eatin' regular," Vin hissed furiously.

7777777

As the town came into view Vin sat up and pulled the cloak on without a word. A frustrated growl came from Chris at Tanner's voluntary action.

"Vin, you may have to wear the damn thing, but you sure as hell don't have to use the hood unless you want to," Chris' voice was gentle as he spoke.

Amos Bearhunter, the Town Marshal, had one of his deputies take custody of Elizabeth Emilia Martin when they got into town.

"What about the boy?" Chris asked.

"Looks like Momma and me will have another chick for a spell," Amos, a huge, rough looking man chuckled.

"Hey there, Chick. I'm Bear and you're going to be staying with me and Momma," the man soon had the boy cradled in the crook of his huge arm.

"What do you suggest?" Isaiah indicated the now dusty, ribbonless little dog looking up adoringly at the big sheriff.

"Snookums ain't no kind of name for a real dog. Come on Pete lets take Jason home to Alisa." Amos sauntered down the boardwalk with the little dog trotting at his heels and wagging it's tail.

"Well, I feel better about this now," Chris relaxed watching the strange threesome.

Noting the worried look on Tanner's face, Happy spoke up. "You don't worry on that boy. Poppa Bear always has a house full of little'ns. Him and his misses never had none of their own. They've got children they kept twenty years ago that stop in to visit. Never heard a complaint on the two of them either."


	29. Blakes Spring

29. Blakes Spring

Arriving at the Blake's Spring Ritz's Hotel where reservations had been made for them by the UN Court. The Travis County Lawmen were infuriated to discover Vin had been assigned to a kennel. After some not-so-subtle threats and a monologue by Ezra in the potential lawsuit and bad press from kenneling a citizen the gathering crowd made the hotel manager reconsider and allow Vin to share Chris' room.

Once they deposited their belongings in the rooms, the men headed out. They decided to eat at nearby saloon that Tanner indicated was safe.

Vin slid soundlessly into a chair in the corner from where he could watch Chris' back and still be in the shadows. It wasn't long before the stir caused by his arrival settled and the patrons forgot his presence.

Buck disappeared on the arm of a barmaid as expected. Ezra seemed to be settled in for the night at a poker table. JW and Isaiah had decided to site see and Nathan had left to visit with the local healer.

"Like ta git a bath 'fore we ride tha train. Iffen yah don' mind," Vin muttered.

"Sounds good. Riding that stage was dusty." Chris finished his drink and rose.

There was barely a break in the conversations as the two men silently left the saloon.

7777777

Finding the bathhouse, they walked in. The bath attendant simply shrugged and took Chris' money when he asked for two baths.

"Number ten. Last stall on the right. Don't go disturbing folks with your doings and clean up after your games," The attendant huffed in disgust, ignoring Vin completely.

"Wonder what that was about?" Chris grunted as they made their way down the hall.

"Figures yah's intendin' ta use me," Vin answered softly.

Chris stood stock still his mouth open in shock. "Shit! Vin are you OK?" Chris quickly suppressed his temper in concern for how this was effecting Tanner.

"No," Vin admitted faintly. He was paler than normal and the trapped look was back in his eyes.

"Do you want to leave?" Chris asked calmly.

"Want mah bath." Vin started walking.

Reaching number ten, Vin started filling the two tubs after making certain they were clean first. He stripped down folding his clothes as he shed them.

"Neat as a pin," Chris teased kindly.

"Yah want fer me ta scrub yer back?" Vin asked hoarsely.

"Vin Tanner, this is not before. So get your skinny butt in that tub before you freeze," Chris chided.

Vin flushed faintly and turned to the tub closest to the door.

"I'se sorry, Chris, I know better than tha'," Vin apologized.

"Yeah. You know better but sometimes old memories will sneak up on you," Chris soothed.

Chris began to ramble on about the day in a soft voice. Watching as Vin's head began to nod. _Wouldn't Buck laugh, me jabbering on like JW_? _Vin's napping a lot. I guess he hasn't been sleeping too good ever since we got the order to appear._

7777777

"Cowboy, wake up," Chris stood at the foot of the tub.

"What?" Vin sat up in the cooling water.

"Time to go to bed," Chris urged Vin to his feet.

"I fell asleep?" Vin muttered drowsily.

"You sure did." Chris smiled.

Without lingering the two men dressed and made their way back to the hotel. Vin unrolled his bedroll and crawled in. Chris shook his head and laughed as the tracker dropped off to sleep as easily as a child. _He trusts me. Damn, isn't that something. Everything that's happened to him. The shit I dumped on him and he still trusts me. _Chris reached down and tucked Vin's arm under the blanket and tucked it in around his shoulders...t_hat's better. Now you won't wake up cold._

7777777

It was in the predawn when Vin woke. Getting ready for the day he packed away his bedroll and saddlebags. He repacked all Chris' gear except for what he'd need this morning. Finally he settled in by the east facing window to watch the birth of a new day. Opening the window Tanner sniffed deeply. The heavenly aroma of warm cinnamon rolls filled the air. Leaning out he tried to locate just where the odor was coming from.

"Good Morning, son," Sheriff Bearhunter called from the boardwalk. Vin nodded politely at the greeting. "Come on out and we'll go get some of those rolls," Amos called up. Vin shook his head. "Leave Larabee a note and come on," Poppa Bear coaxed.

Vin hesitated a long moment then nodded. Closing the window he turned back into the room and sought paper and pencil. Carefully he scribed his note and propped it up on Chris' fresh clothing where it would easily be seen before rushing out to join Poppa Bear. He grumbled as he turned around and went back for the hound cloak then sped off for breakfast.

"You'll be glad to see the last of that stupidity," Bearhunter grunted as Vin pulled the hood up.

Vin turned startled eyes towards the big man.

"Son, my daddy was Cheyenne. I know the difference between a guardian and one of those damn hounds," Amos said peacefully.

Vin seemed off balance as he followed the Sheriff. They passed a long line of folks holding coffee cups and napkins. Cheerful greetings and friendly insults were exchanged by Amos and many of the crowd as they went. Circling down the alley Bearhunter opened a door.

"Momma, I've brought you another chick to feed," he called.

A huge woman easily as big as Isaiah glided over. Bright blue eyes danced in a rosy cheeked face surrounded by wild black curls. "Well, Sugar, what brings you here this fine morning?" she asked the shy tracker.

"Woke ta tha smell a heaven, ma'am. Led me ta here," Vin answered faintly.

"All the way over to the hotel?" Alisa shook her head. "Amos, introduce this young man," she ordered.

"Momma, this is Vin Tanner. He's one of 'em that brought us little Jason," the sheriff spoke.

"Well let's find you a place to sit," Alisa headed into a room filled with a crowd sitting at tightly packed tables. Noting Vin's flinch as they started in she headed for a protected nook and ran off a regular to seat them.

"Now, Ms. Alisa I wasn't finished," the man protested laughingly.

"Yes, you are," Alisa playfully scowled. "Emmy, see that Mr. Sanders gets a couple of rolls to take with him," she called.

"Thank you, Ms. Alisa," the man grinned as he went after his little gift.

"Weren't right," Vin said faintly.

"Sugar, Joe Sanders leaves here every morning at five forty-five," Momma Bear laughed.

"Now, Amos, take off that hat," Momma Bear scowled.

"Yes, ma'am," Amos sheepishly pulled his hat off.

"Married thirty-one years and he still can't remember to take off his hat at my table," Alisa huffed with a smile and ruffled Amos' graying hair.

Two cups seemed to just appear on the now washed table top. Amos and a clearly off balanced Vin Tanner sat down.

"You're not going to feed that damn critter in here," a man at the next table protested loudly bringing a strained silence to the cheerful crowd. Vin seemed to draw in on himself trying to disappear from view.

"I fed you ,didn't I?" The giantess turned with a glare.

"I'm no stinkin' hound," he snapped.

"Out! Don't come back," Alisa said in a flat, no-nonsense tone.

"You'll lose customers," the man stiffened.

"Good. I don't want bigots hanging around here anyway," she growled.

"Emmy, write Mr. Barnes, name on the wall," Alisa called into the shocked silence.

"Now hold on, Ms. Alisa," the rapidly deflating windbag coaxed

"You don't get any more rolls until I paint," Alisa passed sentence on the malefactor.

"I'll paint for you," Barnes quickly offered.

"No! I'm not putting folks out just for the seven people on my wall," Momma Bear growled. "Now, git."

"The nerve of that man, trying to tell me who to feed in my own place," she muttered threateningly as she watched Hagen Barnes slink from the restaurant. "Anybody else want to tell me who I can and cannot feed?" she demanded angrily.

"No ma'am," a chorus of voices filled the room.

"Good, now eat," Alisa smiled warmly.

"Now, sugar, how do you want your coffee?" Alisa turned back to the shaken Tanner. "Soft, medium, dark, or spoonstander?" she asked with a smile.

"I'll leave, didn't mean ta cause yah no trouble," Vin almost whispered.

"Vin Tanner, I only feed the people I want to. It'll do Hagen Barnes good to miss my cinnamon rolls for a while. He's a bully if you don't stand up to him," she laughed. "Now, how do you want your coffee?"

"Real strong and sweet, Ms. Alisa," Vin answered after a brief moment.

"Like my Amos," Alisa teased her now blushing husband.

"You're trouble woman," Bearhunter grunted.

"I know, but you love me anyway," she laughed.

"Sure do, woman. I surely do," Amos ran his fingers down her arm.

Soon Vin sat watching the sea of humanity sipping the coffee. While listening to Amos' kind recital of the some of the other diners' antics, who laughed along with the stories and told stories of their own.

The tiny Emmy appeared with a heavily laden tray. "Nuts, raisins, both, or neither?" she asked with a friendly smile.

"Nuts please," Vin requested.

"Good morning, Chick," Amos greeted the young woman.

"Good morning , Poppa. Is this a new brother you've brought me?" she smiled warmly.

"Nope, this one is just borrowed. He's been claimed already," Bearhunter chuckled.

Two napkins with a pair of huge cinnamon rolls each soon graced the table. Then Emmy made a round of the room until the tray was emptied.

"Oh," Vin moaned in delight taking his first bite.

Amos looked over startled for a moment then shook his head with a smile. Carefully he lowered the tracker's arm setting the roll back on his plate.

"Amos, what's wrong with the Chick?" Alisa rushed over.

"He zoned, Momma, give him a minute before you start clucking," Amos calmed.

"Vin, time to come back, son," Amos gently shook the frozen man's shoulder.

Vin suddenly blinked, "Where's mah roll?" he growled.

"Right on your plate, son. You seem to have zoned on taste," Amos chuckled in relief.

"It's sa good," Vin complimented Alisa.

A large yet feminine hand brushed back the hood exposing the startled Tanner. "No wonder they hide your face," Alisa smiled. "I've never seen eyes that shade of blue. All the women would be jealous of those long lashes," she teased gently until Vin blushed.

Vin kept a careful eye on Alisa as he savored his rolls. He watched as she made her way around the room comforting, teasing and chiding the eaters as needed. Alisa reappeared next to the table as the two men finished their rolls.

"Ma'am could I have some more of these rolls fer mah friends?" Vin asked hesitantly.

"Hum . . . and how do I know that you don't want them all for yourself?" she asked teasingly.

"Sheriff'll tell yah 'bout Chris and tha others," Vin spoke up quickly.

"My Amos would lie if you were to give him a cut," Alisa tapped her foot.

"Kin they come by and git some then?" Vin chewed his bottom lip nervously.

"Stand up," Alisa ordered.

Standing, the bewildered Tanner was lifted off his feet by the big woman.

"Put me down!" Vin protested in shock.

"Just as I thought. Skinnier than a winter rabbit," Alisa said as she sat him back on his feet. "You stop here before you catch the train. I'm not about to let you eat that train slop. I'll have a basket ready," she ordered.

"Ma'am, yah don't have to do that," Vin said weakly.

"Sugar, you'll starve for sure," the motherly woman snorted. Pulling out a napkin she wiped Tanner's hands and face distractedly. Finding a stubborn spot she licked her thumb and scrubbed his cheek before wiping it with the napkin again.

"Emmy, you fix up a dozen plus rolls for this chick to take with him," Alisa ordered.

"Thank yah, ma'am," the bemused Tanner said.

"Is he good to you, child?" Alisa asked worriedly.

"Chris is real good ta me," Vin's eyes brightened and a true smile lifted the corners of his mouth lightly.

"That's as it should be. Now here's your rolls. You take these and scoot before they get cold," Alisa ordered.

Vin brushed his cloak back to get at a pants pocket for money. Revealing the mare's leg on his belt as he did so.

"I'm not taking your money, Chick," Alisa warned with a faint growl.

Vin continued to pull out some change. "Ms. Emmy's earned her a tip," he reminded quietly.

"That's fine but you don't be insulting me by trying to pay for those rolls. Remember next time I expect you to bring your own napkin and cup," Momma Bear hugged the slender Tanner before bustling off.

"I hope tha judge'll let yah have Jason. He'd be a mighty lucky little fella," Vin said wistfully before slipping out of the restaurant with Amos.

Vin rubbed his spit-washed cheek distractedly as they walked back to the hotel.

"You come back anytime son," Bearhunter ordered. "You have trouble, you send us the word. Momma's claimed you now."

"She done put her mark on me?" Vin stopped in shock touching his cheek.

She doesn't go spit shining just anybody," Amos grinned unrepentantly.

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Chris was pacing in the lobby when Vin walked in with his package. His hood was down revealing his relaxed face.

"You should have woke me, Cowboy. This isn't Four Corners," Chris growled worriedly.

"I left yah a note. I'se wit' tha sheriff," Vin ducked his head, but held his ground this time.

_Dammit, when am I ever going to learn?_ "Vin, I wasn't fussing because you went. I'd like to have gotten some of those rolls myself is all," Chris sighed.

"I won' do it again 'fore I talk wit' yah," Vin promised. "Guess yah don' want any a' these?" Vin held up his fragrant package hopefully.

"Hell, Tanner, somebody could have robbed you," Chris licked his lips in anticipation and reached out.

Vin's eyes twinkled and he took off for the stairs at a run with Chris charging after him.

"Is he really a hound?" one of the hotel guests asked, smiling at the surprising game of keep away between the mischievous youngster and the laughing man in black.

"Well, I thought he was," the puzzled desk clerk replied.

"He's got a name and he talks," another guest frowned.

"Do hounds talk?" the first man asked.

"He seems like a nice boy," a grandmotherly patron smiled impishly when the quasi-hound's voice carried down the stairs.

"Chris, don' tickle, it ain' fair!" Tanner wailed, helpless giggles carried from above bringing smiles to everyone's faces.

"Help! JW! Chris is gonna eat'cher cinnamon rolls," Vin bleated.

A thunderous pounding on a door carried to the lobby. "Standish, if you don't give those rolls back I'm going to shoot you!" Chris roared.

"Mr. Larabee, I'm not occupying that room," Ezra's drowsy voice carried to the listeners.

"Then who is? Oh HELL! Isaiah, we're suppose to share," Chris pounded on the door.

"Standish, pick the da- . . . lock," Buck ordered as he came up the steps in a hurry. He was just returning from his night out.

Soon six of the men from Four Corners stood outside the door of Isaiah's room plotting retribution.

"Isaiah, iffen yah don' share I'se tellin'. Ms. Alisa'll write yer name on tha wall and yah won' get no more till she paints." Vin warned.

"I apologize, gentlemen. The devil made me do it," Isaiah now stood in the open door looking sheepish.

"How many rolls were there?" JW asked still dressed in his sleep shirt.

"They was fourteen," Vin answered.

"They're all here," Nathan took custody of the rolls and counted them.

Peace once more settled on the hotel as the seven men all entered Isaiah's room closing the door behind them.

The now replete men sat around the dismembered package. There were no identifiable morsel of what the package had once contained now remaining. Every crumb and speck of icing had been cleaned up.

Ms. Alisa said she'd make us a hamper. Don' want us eatin' the slop served on tha local train," Vin said as he licked the last of the goo off his fingers.

"The woman's an angel," Isaiah sighed leaning back and rubbing his content stomach. Sadly he studied the empty wrapping paper. "Like a plague of locusts. Nothing of sustenance left behind them," Isaiah scowled at his greedy companions.

"I'm going courting. I could marry a woman that can cook like this," Buck enthused.

"I'm quite certain the lady in question is already some fortunate and well-armed gentleman's spouse," Ezra retorted.

"Do you think I could get adopted?" JW asked with a grin.

"Sheriff Bearhunter seems might fond a' his wife. Buck, I figure she's big 'nough ta turn Isaiah over her knee iffen she had a mind to. Reckin JW and me won' have no problem gettin' 'dopted though," Vin smirked.


	30. Catching the Train

30. Catching the Train

"That's the biggest woman I ever saw," JD said in awe as the seven men made their way toward the train station.

The newly refilled Four Corner's hamper was being carried by its handles between Isaiah and Buck.

"Beautiful lady," Buck enthused.

Arriving at the station Chris went to claim their travel vouchers.

Vin paled as Chris' furious voice rose over the crowd.

"Who made these damn reservations?" Chris demanded in a fury. "Listen, you little jerk and listen good . . . " Chris growled.

"Mister Larabee, Mister Tanner seems somewhat distraught. I will be more than happy to confirm our travel arrangements," Ezra offered as he approached.

Larabee visibly struggled to suppress his temper. Nodding his agreement he went immediately to the visibly shaken tracker.

"Vin, I will not allow them to cage you, cowboy. I'll ride a box car with you if I have too," Chris promised.

"Need quiet." Vin looked miserable, touching his ear.

Chris studied their surroundings and led the tracker over to a secluded area by the baggage.

Protectively the rest of the men created a human shield sheltering Vin from the stares of strangers.

"Better?" Chris asked softly.

Tanner sighed and nodded while obviously relaxing somewhat.

"Mister Larabee, we now have a private compartment as far as the main line. From there we have a private car to Cascade." Ezra smirked happily.

Deep laughter greeted the gambler's information.

"Now, Ez, how'd you go and manage that?" Buck demanded with a wide grin.

"Six single tickets and a hound's passage result in a three-dollar refund when applied to a compartment. I simply suggested it would be necessary for you to walk Vin at each stop if he were to be kenneled. Of course to avoid distressing paying passengers those walks would most certainly be taken through the shipping sections of those stations. Strangely enough a private coach became available. Completely free of charge." Ezra calmly examined a seam in his jacket.

"Sounds like we need to tell Bearhunter he has contraband running through his station doesn't it?" Chris grinned rubbing Vin's still tense shoulders.

Gathering up their gear the much happier group headed for the train.

"Chris!" Vin shouted and broke into a run.

While moving some barrels the stevedores had unbalanced a nearby crate on the racking. The large crate overbalanced and began to tip toward a family gathered below, unaware.

Tanner swept the two children into his arms and continued forward slamming into the husband and wife getting all of them clear of the falling container.

"Vin!!"

The Four Corner's lawmen raced towards the accident. Children's sobs and the chatter of the disturbed crowd could be heard.

"Hush! You're not hurt. Momma's got you." A woman's frightened voice could be heard.

A man was leaning over the crate and the pinned Tanner.

"Don't touch him," Chris warned with a sharp snarl.

"I'm not going to hurt him. He protected us," the man huffed.

"Sorry, I didn't want you to move him," Chris calmed himself.

"I'm a doctor. I know how to handle the injured," the dark haired man huffed indignantly. The protesting physician was getting pushed further back as the lawmen gathered around their downed man.

Chris slid to his knees by the trapped Tanner and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Cowboy?" Chris asked worriedly.

"I'se fine, jest pinned is all," Vin growled.

"Luck of the devil," Buck gaped at the crate. It had landed with one edge on a raised support for the racking creating a slight gap keeping it from resting completely on the trapped man. Vin was belly down on the floor pinned from his hips down.

"I want the truth, Tanner," Chris demanded.

"I'se a might mushed. Gonna have some spectacular shades an' hues in tha southern hemisphere fer tha next several weeks. Set mah back off a might," Vin listed calmly.

"Junior must have hit his head," Buck chuckled.

"He sounds like Ez," JW laughed in relief.

"Git me outta here!" Vin's voice rose slightly.

"Nathaniel?" Chris asked.

The healer knelt down and peered under the crate. He ignored the furious blue eyes while he checked the tracker's pulse and respiration.

"It should be all right. You holler if something hurts, you hear me? Don't move 'till I say you can." Nathaniel scowled at Vin until he nodded.

Isaiah, Buck, Chris and Nathaniel carefully lifted the broken crate and moved it to the side.

"It wasn't real heavy," Nathaniel sighed in relief.

"Need a chew toy, Junior?" Buck chuckled as he pushed the leaking pet supplies out of their way.

"Kin I git up now?" Vin's irritated voice demanded.

The gathered crowd's sympathetic murmurs had changed to a shocked buzz when the hound cloak was revealed by moving the crate. The waiting doctor stepped back with an expression of disgust.

"You let that perversion run loose?" he hissed.

"Quite fortunate for your family I dare say," Ezra spoke sharply cutting off the hurtful words.

"Let me see, Vin." Nathaniel knelt down.

"Hell no, yah ain't seein'!" Vin snarled.

"Vin," Chris sighed tiredly. "Let Nate look at you."

"He kin look once we's on tha train," Vin grunted.

"Vin, you could be hurt bad," Nathaniel protested softly.

"They ain' no blood ner bones pokin' through. It missed mah innarads. Yah ain' showin' mah ass ta all in sundry," Vin growled.

JW burst into laughter setting off Ezra then followed by the rest in relief.

"See how funny yah'd feel iffen it were yer ass hangin' out, Larabee," Vin huffed.

"Brother Vin, your language son. There are ladies and children present," Isaiah reprimanded while still laughing.

"AH . . ." Vin snapped his mouth shut and color rose in his neck up to his face. "I'se sorry. Shouldn't have spoke like tha'," Vin apologized softly.

"Just can't stay out of trouble can you?" Chris sat down beside Tanner.

"Rekin not, is them young'ns alrigh'?" Vin asked worriedly.

"Shook up some, but not even a scratch," JW answered.

"Kin I please git up now?" Vin's voice held suppressed panic.

"Let Isaiah carry you," Nathaniel ordered.

Tanner sent a cutting look towards the healer as he gingerly got to his feet and limped towards the train.

"Get him onto the train, Chris. This crowd has him distressed enough," Ezra whispered.

Chris and Nathaniel quickly caught up and aided the tracker onto the train.

The remaining men gathered up their dropped gear.

Isaiah had to dig through the spilled pet toys to recover his poncho before joining the rest.

"Who are they? I'll report them for letting that abomination run loose," the doctor fumed now that the lawmen were beyond hearing range.

"Hound or not, he kept your kids from getting hurt," a bystander huffed.

"Do hounds talk?" someone asked curiously.

"They called him Vin. I didn't know they named 'em," another voice carried over the crowd.

"Hope he didn't get hurt bad. That was a damn fine thing he did," another bystander muttered.

"Mighty cold man, that doctor." A woman turned her back and walked off.

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"Now let me see," Nathaniel ordered once they were in the private compartment.

"Ah hell," Vin muttered miserably.

Chris eased the cloak off and hung it by the door.

Tanner handed Larabee the gunbelt with the mare's leg that joined the cloak on the hook. Vin hissed as he slid the suspenders down. The rest of the men entered as Vin fumbled with his buttons.

"Shut tha damn door. I ain' no damn strip show," Vin growled.

"Who'd pay to see that scrawny butt," Buck laughed closing the door.

The tracker finally loosened his pants and let them drop to his ankles.

"Ouch!" JW muttered in sympathy.

"The variation of shades," Ezra noted as he worriedly studied the blossoming bruises.

"I need to check for a cracked pelvis," Nathaniel warned as he gently reached out.

"Nothin's broke, been broke 'nough times I'd know," Vin gritted.

"You seem to be all right," the healer breathed in relief. "You were mighty lucky. You tell me if something starts to hurt, all right?" Nathaniel asked softly.

"I'll tell yah," Vin agreed.

"Stand still and I'll rub some liniment on that back," Jackson frowned worriedly feeling the muscle spasms as he tried to bring the injured man some relief. "I've got some balm that should help with those bruises."

"Hell, the kid would have to take a bath in it," Buck scowled.

"Isaiah, let one of those berths down. I want Vin laying flat for a while," Nathaniel directed tersely.

Very shortly Tanner was stretched out in an upper berth. He was dressed in Isaiah's old shirt laying on his own bedroll.

"I've got no way to make you a tea. Got an infusion here I want you to take. It'll help with the pain," Nathaniel held out a small bottle.

"No," Vin shook his head stubbornly.

"Easy, Vin. Don't twitch around like that," Chris soothed. "Leave him alone, Nate," he ordered.

"Stubborn," Nathaniel huffed sitting down as the train began to move.

A knock on the compartment door caught everyone's attention. Weapons were drawn and a nod from Chris had JW jerking the door open to reveal the startled doctor from earlier. The shocked man took a step backward at the show of firepower.

"May we help you, doctor?" Isaiah asked calmly.

"Excuse me. I thought I'd make certain that your hound wasn't seriously injured," the white faced doctor explained his presence. "Please forgive my earlier rudeness and allow me to introduce myself. My name is Dr. Steven Wilson," the clearly agitated man spoke shakily.

"Nate's done checked," Buck growled.

"Mr. Tanner is in no manner a hound," Ezra sniffed.

"Thank you, Dr. Wilson," Nathaniel offered his hand, relief easily evident in his tone.

"NO!" Vin hissed from his berth barring his teeth in a silent snarl.

"Vin, I'd feel better if a real doctor was to look at you. Please," Nathaniel laid a gentle hand on the tracker's tense back.

"Got him some schoolin' don' make him no doctor," Vin gritted.

"You allow him to insult people like that?" the affronted doctor demanded.

"You were told, Vin isn't a hound," Chris looked over with an icy glare. The doctor became restless as he was subjugated to the cold eyes of the peacekeepers.

"Mr. Tanner is quite correct. Education is not all that is necessary to make a physician." Ezra's drawl was very evident.

"Compassion is as important to a healer of bodies as well as one of souls." Isaiah stroked the cover of his worn Bible with a rueful murmur.

"I always thought a doctor was suppose to help folks no matter who they were." JW studied Wilson thoughtfully.

"Nathaniel is more of a doc then most I've seen. He truly cares for those he tries to heal. Doesn't matter to him if it's a Circuit Court Judge or one of the working girls," Buck answered.

Dr. Wilson scowled and stepped toward the tracker.

"You touch me and I'll shoot yah," Vin warned coldly.

"Devin Jefferson Tanner, let him look you over in case I missed something," Nathaniel ordered.

"Nobody," Vin snarled reminding Nathaniel of the promise made.

"Vin, please it'll settle my mind," Jackson asked softly.

"Hell," Vin studied Nathaniel before nodding tiredly.

Chris rose and grasped Vin's arm in a calming, supportive grip.

Wilson roughly jerked on the hem of the shirt.

Tanner hissed and set his teeth as the rough handling set his back off again.

"Gentle," Chris' icy whisper warned.

"Don't tell me how to treat a patient," Wilson huffed. He gasped looking at the now revealed bruises. "Damn. And you walked away with these."

Vin turned his head to look at the shocked doctor revealing his youthful face clearly for the first time.

"Son, you tell me if I get too rough," the doctor spoke in a much softer tone. Gentle fingers barely brushed over the bruises. "I'm afraid this is going to hurt. I'm going to check you for fractures in your hips and pelvis," Dr. Wilson moved carefully as he examined the tense man. When he was through he gently recovered the injured man.

"He's badly bruised. His back is strained. Who's the bastard that left these scars?" he demanded protectively. The physician had now turned protector even willing to take on the six intimidating men on his patient's behalf.

"UNPK," Vin sighed.

"Why would they do something like that?" Wilson asked in horror.

"Why not?" Vin asked, curious now at the doctor's behavior.

"That was abuse," Wilson waved his hand shakily towards Vin's back.

"Jest a hound, Doc. Yah said it yerself," Vin reminded calmly.

"Just a hound. You should have shot me where I stood," the shaken doctor muttered.

"Thought about it," Chris snorted starting to like Wilson in spite of his earlier behavior.

"Mr. Tanner, I'd like to apologize for my rude and boorish behavior. You have my complete and heartfelt thanks for the aid you provided my family. If there is anything I can do now or in the future please do not hesitate to call on me," Steven Wilson said earnestly.

"Yer little'ns all right?" Vin asked softly.

"Excited by their adventure, but quite well. Honestly I only came here in the first place to avoid the lecture from my wife and children," Wilson admitted in embarrassment.

"Yah take 'em campin' er fishin' do somethin' wit' 'em fer a day. Tha'll be thanks 'nough," Vin said softly.

"I certainly will, Mr. Tanner," Wilson smiled.

"Any advice on treating Vin?" Nathaniel spoke up.

"If he were younger much of the spine curvature could have been corrected. I can give you some exercises that might help some with the pain. Traction might be of some benefit," Wilson said.

"NO! No traction." Vin's voice shook.

"No traction," Wilson soothed. "Massage, heat and or cold compresses when his back flares up. He is considerably under weight." the doctor suggested. "What kind of liniment are you using?" He turned to Nathaniel.

"An herbal mix," Nathaniel said and listed the ingredients.

"I see you used a balm on the bruising. It should help some. What kind did you use?" Wilson asked curiously. Once more Nathaniel listed the ingredients of the homemade balm. "Pain medication?"

"He won't take it," Nathaniel scowled at his stubborn patient.

"I have some Smith Bros. liniment and some morphine in my bag," Wilson offered.

"Thanks, but Vin can't handle it. He has reactions to just about everything," Nathaniel groaned.

"What are you? I don't think you're a hound at all," Wilson asked Vin.

"No, I'se not a hound," Vin agreed.

"You are enhanced though?" the doctor asked in fascination.

"Yeah, I'se enhanced," Vin agreed.

"Mr. Tanner is a Sentinel. An unaltered natural," Ezra spoke up.

"A natural? So you're what they call a Sentinel. Well, Vin Tanner take care of yourself and thank you," Wilson smiled and left.


	31. Riding the Rails

31. Riding the Rails

Once the compartment door shut behind the exiting Wilson everyone settled somewhat.

Isaiah carefully laid his Bible to the side and stood up. "Brother, if you won't take any thing for the pain, I'd be more than happy to give you a back rub," he offered.

"Thank yah, 'Siah, but no. Yah best not touch me righ' now," Vin hissed.

"Chris," Nathaniel growled.

"Not tea, Nate." Chris held Vin's forearm in a firm grip offering what comfort he could.

"I cain't shut tha doors, Chris," Vin's pained voice shook.

Everyone exchanged looks but remained silent trying to avoid one more thing that might hurt the tracker. Chris' thoughts raced as he tried to think of anything to help the suffering man.

"Vin, I want you to think of Heaven's Gate, all right," Chris' voice was settling into a soothing purr.

"Alrigh'," Vin sighed tiredly.

"You remember the rainbow up on the ledge?" Chris coaxed.

"Yeah," Vin panted.

"Okay, your senses are like the rainbow. Each sense has a different color. Do you understand?" Chris used his free hand to stroke the loose curls.

"Yeah, different colors fer each a' tha doors," Vin answered.

"You're doing good, Pard, real good. Now what color is touch?" Chris asked softly.

"Red," Vin muttered.

"Okay. Now I want you to start closing the door. As the door shuts there will be less and less red showing. Now slowly start closing the door," Chris ordered.

"'Kay the door's closin'," Vin panted. "Aw hell, I lost it," he grunted.

"Try it again, Cowboy. Close it an inch at a time. One . . . two . . . three . . ." Larabee counted up until he reached twelve. "How's it feel Vin?"

"Better, still hurts," Vin breathed.

"How many threads to an inch on Isaiah's shirt?" Chris asked softly.

"A hundred an' eighty," Vin muttered after a pause.

"All right, I want you to keep closing the door till you can't count the individual threads," Chris coaxed.

Vin nodded his head and frowned in concentration.

"Better," Vin smiled over at Larabee with a deep breath of relief.

"I want you to keep closing the door until it feels comfortable to you. I don't want you to get rid of the pain completely, just 'till it's something that you can deal with. You need to keep some contact with what's going on with your body," the guide soothed.

"Chris," Vin's voice was exhausted.

"Yes, Cowboy," Chris ruffled the tracker's curls.

"Thanks," Vin sighed in relief.

"No problem, Pard," Larabee smiled.

"Chris," Vin spoke.

"Why don't you go to sleep," Chris suggested.

"Kin yah turn mah ears down some too?" Vin asked uncomfortably.

"We can try. Are sounds bothering you?" Larabee frowned.

"Some things I'd rather not hear." Red painted the tracker's features.

"Vin?" Chris asked curiously.

"Tha folks in tha next compartment," Vin muttered, the color deepening.

"Yeah?" Larabee coaxed.

"Shit, Larabee, I don' need ta hear 'em he-in' an' she-in'," Vin blurted.

Buck chortled, Isaiah raised an eyebrow and looked at the connecting wall with amusement, Chris smothered a grin at the tracker's embarrassment, Ezra shuffled his cards expressionlessly and JW simply looked flabbergasted.

"Junior, you mean they're . . . " Buck started to tease when a loud thumping came from the other compartment. "Sounds like they're having them a good old time don't it?" Buck grinned.

"Chris," Vin hissed desperately.

"Picture another door," Larabee began fighting his laughter. "Now what color is the light?" Chris asked.

"It ain' funny," Tanner huffed.

"Junior, It's funny as hell," Buck snorted.

"Why Buck however didja git such a scar?" Vin piped up in a falsetto. "Why it's an old war wound, Darlin'. It takes a very special lady for me to be able to function proper," Vin's voice dropped and he continued in an amazingly good imitation of Buck's voice.

"Hell's fire," Buck blurted flushing darkly. Five pairs of censoring eyes pinned the big rogue in place.

Tanner simply closed his eyes and turned his head.

"War wound?" Chris hissed.

"You having performance problems, Buck?" Nathaniel demanded.

"Really, Mister Wilmington, that is so crass," Ezra sniffed disdainfully.

Isaiah simply shook his head with a faint smile while JW simply seemed bewildered.

"Chris, you need to help Junior with his hearing. Boy, needs some peace and quiet," Buck almost stuttered.

"Come on, Buck, I better check out this old 'war wound' of yours," Nathaniel chuckled.

"War wound my ass. That scar is from old man Pickens' picket fence. Matches the bird shot scars on his butt," Larabee snorted.

"They were injuries received in honorable combat," Buck huffed.

"Buck, there wasn't anything honorable about what you were doing with Francie Pickens," Chris grunted.

Ignoring the spluttering Wilmington. Chris began to coach Vin into quieting his hearing. Tanner fell asleep almost immediately once his hearing was down to an acceptable level.

"He-ing and she-ing," Isaiah laughed softly.

JW flushed and wouldn't meet the other men's eyes.

"It's a wonder ole Vin ever sleeps," Buck sighed.

"He's laying on his blankets. Boy gets cold easy. JW hand me my poncho would you?" Isaiah asked.

7777777

"Should we wake him? He's been out for over four hours now," JW asked worriedly. "He needs to eat."

"He needs to sleep more than he needs the food, right now," Nathaniel answered. "Just make sure and leave some food for him."

Everyone grabbed a plate and checked out the hamper.

7777777

"Hey, Cowboy, are you awake?" Chris stood up as he heard Vin stir. "Nate, come here would you?" Chris asked faintly worried.

Tanner was laying on his back batting at a beam of light.

"Vin?" Chris stopped the moving hand. "Look at his eyes, Nathaniel. What's wrong with him?" Chris demanded.

"Stoned! He's drugged good," Nathaniel said in disbelief.

"You didn't give him anything," Chris protested.

Vin ignored them. He was sniffing and rubbing Isaiah's poncho while the two men studied him.

"Here, Isaiah," Chris tugged the garment free of the grasping fingers and tossed it to its owner.

Vin scrambled up and knocked Nathaniel out of his way as he came. He reached for the poncho again trying to pull it out of the shocked preacher's hands. He suddenly turned loose and began batting at the tasseled tie-back on the window curtain.

"Vin?" Isaiah asked worriedly.

"Junior, are you all right?" Buck demanded as he tried to free the curtain from the strangely acting Tanner.

"Sssss," Isaiah shook his head and hissed dragging his poncho along the floor.

Vin growled and pounced. The poncho stopped moving and was now officially 'dead'. Vin began to purr and roll on the garment kneading the material in his hands.

"Well, his back doesn't seem to be bothering him does it?" JW gaped.

"Mister Jackson, what has befallen our young compatriot?" Ezra demanded in a worried tone.

Vin began to rub his chin over Ezra's knee, nudging the gambler's hand until he was petted.

"He's doped," Nathaniel scowled. "Damned if I know how."

"You think that Doc gave him something anyway?" Chris demanded angrily.

"No, Vin was watching him to close for that," Buck grunted.

"So who drugged him, and with what?" Larabee growled.

"I had a cat once . . . " JW started only to be cut off.

"JW, save it for another time. Your story isn't helping anything," Buck huffed.

Vin crept over to Isaiah and crawled up onto his lap and snuggled.

"He sure likes to be cuddled," Nathaniel smiled sadly.

"Vin doesn't like to be touched," Chris refuted.

"Have you never heard the expression, in wine there is truth," Ezra sighed.

"I had a cat once . . . " JW tried again.

"JW, you aren't helping," Chris growled.

"Could I please finish!" JW almost yelled.

Everyone stared at the youngster in shock.

"What about your cat, JW?" Isaiah broke the silence.

"Slink would act like Vin is when he got catnip. Could Vin have been exposed to something like that?" JW asked.

Isaiah's deep chuckle was heard. "My poncho," he broke into bass laughter. "Mice."

"What?" voices demanded in confusion.

"Cat toys from that broken crate. My poncho was buried under a pile of catnip mice," Isaiah chortled.

"Catnip," Nathaniel frowned.

"What's it going to do to him?" JW asked.

"I'd say it already did it," Nathaniel chuckled faintly. "He might have a hangover though. Could have set his back off worse the way he was playing."

"I told you he was more cat than hound," Buck reminded.

"I'll put him back to bed," Nathaniel offered reaching for the tracker.

"No, leave him be. He doesn't weigh anything and children need to be cuddled. Our Vin hasn't had nearly enough of them," Isaiah refused, tightening his hold slightly.

The men made an unvoiced agreement that until Tanner protested they would take turns holding him. He had slowly made the round being passed from Isaiah, to Buck, to Nathaniel, on to Ezra and JW then finally Larabee. Vin was settled in Chris' lap with JW holding his legs when he finally woke.

"Chris?" Vin asked in bewilderment.

"Lay still. You're fine," Larabee ordered.

"Too heavy," Vin yawned widely.

"Cowboy, new foals weigh more than you. Besides, I like knowing where you are," Chris crooned.

Vin blinked sleepily and relaxed into the hand threading through his curls.

"Feels nice," Vin murmured. Hesitantly Tanner traced Chris' face with sensitive fingers. The others watched as Vin's nostrils flared and he sniffed along the sheriff's throat. Tilting his head he listened to Chris croon. Finally Vin licked along Chris' neck tasting his bonded.

"You okay?" Larabee asked at the unusual behavior.

"MINE," Vin raised up and gripped Chris' shoulders.

"Yours," the guide affirmed. "MINE," Larabee snarled.

"Yer's," the tracker agreed.

Chris' eyes held a troubled look as he stroked the tracker's hair. "Vin you never had a choice. How do you really feel about this bond?" He asked softly, needing to know yet feeling some shame at taking advantage of the intoxicated man this way.

"I love yah," Vin answered peacefully, snuggling close. "Mind yah best look fer somebody else fer tha he-in' an' she-in' stuff," Vin warned with a chuckle.

"No problem, Cowboy, you've got angles where I like curves," Chris snorted.

"When yah gonna git yerself a woman so's I can spoil yer babies? Got's lots I wanna teach 'em," Vin said mischievously.

Chris looked down at the curly head tucked against his chest with a scowl.

The rest of the deputies smothered their chuckles at the very private conversation that seemed to be taking place.

"Mrs. Louisa over ta tha restaurant can sure cook. Smells nice too. She's a proven breeder. A widda woman now yah know," Vin said thoughtfully. "Then they's Misses Potter. She makes dandy cookies," Vin tilted his head as he considered.

"You stop right there. No skinny, long haired tracker is going to pick me a wife," Chris growled as the others broke down and laughed out loud.

"Hell Larabee, Buck's gonna be a great grandpa 'fore yah git yer ass in gear," Vin humphed. "Don' rekin ya'd haf ta git married. One a' Miss Lilly's ladies would probably help yah out," Vin grumbled.

"Bucklin, who'd yah suggest?" Vin turned to look at the widely grinning Wilmington.

"Tanner, I really prefer you sober," Chris groaned.

Vin suddenly frowned, stiffening he scowled and pulled away. Sliding off Chris' lap and onto the adjoining seat he demanded, "Why's yah holdin' me? I ain' no baby."

"You were napping, Junior," Buck ruffled Vin's curls.

Chris coaxed his guardian into eating an apple.

"How do you feel?" Nathaniel asked in concern.

"Mah heads all wooly," Vin muttered.

"You were drugged," Chris explained. When Vin gave a puzzled look Chris said, "Catnip."

"Ah hell," Tanner ducked his head and he bit into his apple, hiding his flushed face behind a curtain of hair.

Soon Vin started to nod off, his head kept drooping until it came to rest on Larabee's shoulder.

Isaiah smiled and reached over, removing the apple core from the lax fingers before he stood and safely tucked him onto the berth once more.

Time seemed to pass quickly for the lawmen as JW leaned against the window snoring softly. Isaiah was immersed in reading his Bible, Nathaniel was working on a crossword puzzle.

The only sounds to be heard were Chris, Ezra and Buck as they engaged in what Ezra deemed a 'friendly' game of cutthroat poker

"Should be rolling into Cody soon," Buck noted.

"Vin's been sleeping an awful lot. Nathaniel, are you sure he's okay? There's nothing we missed?" Chris asked the healer. "I mean he slept most of the time on the stage and now on the train."

"Chris, that boy was mighty sick. It took a lot out of him. He didn't have any reserves to start with. I'm glad he's sleeping," Nathaniel looked up.

"Junior doesn't like crowds. It puts him under a lot of stress. I figure he feels safe enough with us to sleep. That's a good thing, Chris," Buck smiled faintly.

"Let us not be forgetting our intrepid tracker's most recent injuries and the exposure to catnip which seemed to bring out his feline tendencies," Ezra's grin revealed the gold tooth.

The train began to slow down and lights could be seen through the window.

"Looks like we're in Cody, Brothers." Isaiah closed his Bible and carefully slipped it into his bag.

"Isaiah, can you carry Vin? If we bundle him up there's no need to dress him just to go between trains," Nathaniel decided.

"No trouble at all," Isaiah agreed.

"Ez, check on our accommodations," Chris ordered with an amused smile.

"The rest of us will see about getting our gear shifted over," Larabee said.

"Please make certain my trunk is loaded on the train," Ezra ordered.

"Why in hell do you need a whole trunk full of shit anyway?" Buck scowled.

"As my sainted mother would say: appearances are everything. I promise you gentlemen the contents of that trunk will be quite enlightening," Ezra smirked and winked.

When the train stopped Chris stood up and moved Vin's gunbelt to his own saddle bags then took the cloak down. Carefully Larabee slid the garment on the sleeping tracker. Then helped Nathaniel wrap the bedroll around him.

"Why mess with that damn thing?" Buck growled.

"I wouldn't put it past old Horace to have a check done," Chris answered softly.

"Yeah, that would be their style," Nathaniel sighed.

"Up you get, kid," Buck urged JW to his feet.

"Got all the gear in here?" Isaiah looked around.

"Yeah, I've got Vin's stuff," Chris answered.

Vin's eyes blinked open when Isaiah lifted him.

"Shhh, son. We're just moving to the other train. Go back to sleep now," Isaiah ordered softly.

"Le' me up," Vin tried to wriggle loose.

"I'll just carry you over so you don't have to get dressed," Isaiah soothed.

"Kin walk," Tanner protested sleepily.

"You're still doped up. It will be quicker for me to carry you," Isaiah chuckled, snuggling the tracker against his chest.

"Let's go guys," Chris ordered, opening the compartment door.

The men exited the train with Buck steering the mostly asleep JW.


	32. Cody Station

32. Cody Station

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In spite of the late hour a crowd filled the station. A Cody police department officer with a small squad in UNPK uniforms as backup stood near the ticket office.

"Looks like brother Chris was right," Isaiah grunted, tightening his hold on Tanner. The tracker's heart had begun to pound and his breathing had become labored. "Shh, son, calm down now," Isaiah crooned to the slender man in his grasp.

"This way, gentlemen." Ezra suddenly reappeared. "I have found our new accommodations to be quite adequate." Ezra directed the group toward a private car, subtly herding them away from the UNPK agents.

"Sheriff Larabee?" the uniformed officer asked walking up.

"That's me," Chris answered, coming to a stop and turning around.

The rest of the men turned and took up supportive positions around Larabee.

"My name's Mike Souder. I'm sorry to disturb you and your men, Sheriff. My captain was wired that a hound was traveling with you. I'm under orders to make certain it is properly marked and restrained," the Sargent was obviously trying to be as non-confrontational as possible. He recognized the stupidity of angering these men for no legitimate reason.

"I'm gonna pinch that piss ant Horace's head off," Buck growled.

"I didn't find a kennel being loaded onto the westbound. If you'll direct me to the hound I'll get out of your way," the Sergeant ignored Buck's comment.

"My bonded isn't a hound," Chris snarled coldly.

"Vin isn't riding in no damn cage," Nathaniel exploded. "The boy's just beginning to heal."

"We prefer to make our own travel arrangements officer," Ezra tried to sooth the situation before his angry teammates got them all arrested.

"The hound, gentlemen. I don't have a choice," the officer sighed. "You can't get on the train until I've seen him, sir," the Sergeant spoke directly to Larabee. "Let's try to keep those jerks out of this," Mike Souder grunted looking back towards the UNPK agents with distaste.

Vin snarled softly and sat up enough for the blankets to fall loose revealing the cloak.

"As you can clearly see, Vin is cloaked," Ezra waved.

"Why isn't the hound on a leash or in a kennel?" demanded one of the UNPK agents, stalking over.

"I believe Mr. Sanchez is more than adequate restraint for one under-the-weather guardian." Ezra ignored the man, speaking to the Sergeant instead.

"You can't haul that thing unsecured among passengers," the UNPK officer interrupted.

"Ez has done got us a private car," Vin growled. "Now git yer shit tagether er I'm gonna let Larabee shoot yer asses," he yawned.

"He talks," disbelieving whispers came from the waiting UNPK squad.

"Nah! Didja hear tha' I kin talk, Larabee?" Vin growled.

"I never noticed," Chris smirked.

"Now is there anything else you need, Sergeant?" Larabee asked.

"No sheriff, there isn't. I'm sorry for the inconvenience," he responded.

"I hope you get to feeling better soon," Souder spoke directly to Tanner.

"Thank yah," Vin blinked at the courtesy shown.

The ruffled but at this time powerless UNPK agents left immediately, lowering the tension level of the Four Corners' lawmen.

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A colorfully dressed old man studied Vin intently as he approached the deputy speaking excitedly.

"What's he want?" Chris asked curiously.

"Old man's been trying to tell me something ever since I got here. I'm waiting for a Spanish speaker so I can talk to him. I've been trying to tell him that, but I don't think it's working," the frustrated Souder ran his hand through his hair.

"Won' do no good," Vin spoke up.

"Why?" the Sergeant asked.

"Spanish talker, this fella's Rom. He's one of tha Tinkers, a gypsy not Mexican," Tanner answered.

"Damn, now what do I do?" Souder groaned.

"How long 'fore we pull out?" Vin demanded.

"Two and a half hours before our scheduled departure, Mister Tanner," Ezra responded.

"Let me down and find me some clothes," Vin growled.

"What do you think you're up to?" Nathaniel snapped.

"Helpin' these folks out." Vin smiled innocently. "Kin yah find my boots, Nate?" Vin asked sweetly.

"Damn fool's gonna go and hurt himself," the protesting healer scowled but dug through a bag until he found Vin's boots.

Isaiah frowned but walked over and set Vin down on the platform of the private car Ezra indicated.

"Dress warm," Nathaniel called to Tanner's back as he entered the car.

Vin reappeared fully dressed with the hood up on the cloak.

"Be best ta bring tha old man over this way," Vin directed as he carefully climbed down off of the private car. "Tha Tinkers has differen' ways. So's they's gonna be some stuff ya'll won' understand. Elders is mighty respected. I'se gonna show him proper respect, so yer gonna need ta be patient. It'd be rude fer me ta crowd him. As it is this fella's gonna have ta stay in isolation fer a spell jest 'cause he's been among the **Gage**We's **morado,** unclean by they's reckinin'," Tanner explained as he walked.

He lead the group over to a quietly located bench where the old man sat down and waited watching the group. Silently Tanner settled cross-legged on the floor at the elder's feet. Vin never directly looked at the old gentleman.

Tanner's fingers began to dance with a piece of string. The men watched as he created designs, Jacob's ladder, a saucer and tea cup. Each new design was more complex than the one before it. The old man smiled and leaned down as an intricate star took shape in the threads. Nodding his head he held out his hand for the string and worked a star slightly different then the one Vin had made. The old Rom then undid his star and started over holding his hands down so Tanner could recreate the star in his own string.

"Hai?" Vin held up his creation.

The old man smiled and nodded. Reaching out he brushed back the concealing hood. A gnarled old finger tapped the younger man's chin. He spoke slowly in an unfamiliar language.

"I had always heard that hounds were ugly," Souder muttered as they waited for Tanner to translate.

"Hounds might be. I've never seen one's face," Chris grunted.

Their attention switched back to the old man when he spoke. "Ne rakesa tu Romanes?"

"Hai," Vin answered then seemed to ask something in the foreign language. The old man answered and then seemed to ask Tanner a question.

"Miro te'sorthene," Vin reached over and touched Chris' pant's leg in answer.

Soon nods, a few words and expressive hands wove a conversation. An occasional word would be clear but for the most part the conversation was held in a soft murmur. "Moarte . . . gami glox . . . familia . . . Rom baro."

Vin finally looked up. "Sergi here, says he saw a feller. Near as tall as Chris but heavier wit' red hair. He's missing his right eye. Fella dumped him a woman's body out of a closed wagon bein' pulled by a team of bay mares. Tha hoss on tha near side is missin' a shoe on her right front foot. He's got a kinsman guardin' tha body 'till yah git there," Vin reported.

"Red hair, bulky with one eye," Mike Souder smiled grimly. "Sounds like One-eye Pete. A local piece of shit. We haven't been able to pin anything on him so far."

"Can he show us where the body is?" the Sergeant asked Vin.

The old man stood up and waved them to follow. "Toreen?" he called.

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Soon they were standing at the corner of a back alley. A brightly dressed man stepped out of the shadows halfway down the street and joined the old man. A soft conversation was held between the elder and his kinsman.

"Garda?" the younger man gestured towards the Four Corner's team.

"Hai," Sergi answered.

"Jukkal!" the young traveler hissed as he took note of the grey cloak.

Chris snarled when Vin turtled up at the other man's speech.

"KEKKO!! Beano.abri, Ves tacha sedre, Chok engro," the old man snapped sharply in reprimand.

"Sheka!" the younger man huffed in disbelief.

"Rakka diro juklon dandrar." Vin growled laying a calming hand on his upset guide's shoulder. "Chris, calm down. Sergi'll read him from tha book," Vin soothed.

"Kekko jukkal, vyusher," Sergi chuckled looking over at the furious Larabee.

Moving down the block the old tinker waved toward an alley. A woman's corpse lay almost hidden by the deep shadows. Carefully Sargent Souder made his way forward, trying not to disturb any evidence. He stood there a long time before retracing his steps.

"Nobody should die like that," the shaken man hissed as he rejoined them.

"Can you use some help?" Chris offered politely.

"I can sure use Tanner to translate for me," Mike Souder answered. "I need to call this in," the disturbed officer muttered.

"Vin could look around for you. Get some evidence that would be missed otherwise," Chris suggested after sharing a look with his bonded.

"Would you do that? It would sure help out. Maybe we can nail Pete this time," Mike smiled widely. "There's a call box on the next street over. I'll be right back. Go ahead and start without me. I have a feeling you know what you're doing. May I borrow one of your deputy's to wait for my people, so I can come right back?" Souder asked.

"Buck, you and JW go with Sergeant Souder," Chris ordered.

The three men hurried off to get assistance.

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Tanner began to walk a spiral pattern drawing closer to the body each round. The tracker was moving slow with a stiff stride.

"Those bruises have really stiffened Vin up," Nathaniel muttered.

The old man frowned and looked over at Chris with a scowl. He grunted something to his companion under his breath. Reaching out he grasped Chris' sleeve and pulled him toward Vin as he came by.

"Kathal, phal," he seemed to lecture Chris as he placed Larabee's hand on Vin's shoulder. Turning, he rejoined the others leaving the two men to stand alone.

"Guess I'm supposed to walk with you, Cowboy," Chris shrugged, exchanging a look with his Sentinel.

Vin made part of a round before the stiffness seemed to disappear. Larabee was speaking softly as they circled. Tanner was now moving easily as he scanned the crime scene. Taking a deep breath the tracker knelt down by the body.

"Sargen', yah got yah a notebook?" Vin called to the just arriving man.

"Yes," Souder responded.

"Come ahead yah ain' gonna mess up no evidence," Vin looked up.

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JW and Buck arrived with several of the local officers in tow, while Vin was making his report. Evidence was marked and bagged.

"Damn, that kid's good," an older officer wearing lieutenant's bars admired.

"Iffen yah git him I kin positive ID him fer yah," Tanner promised softly.

"You've been a lot of help, Vin, thanks." Souder offered his hand. The two shook hands one man to another.

When Tanner stood up the cloak was fully exposed to the newly arrived officers.

"He's a hound?" a younger officer asked in disbelief.

"He can't be. Hounds don't talk," another officer answered.

"This kid's damn sharp. All the hound's I've ever seen were awful stupid," the Lieutenant scoffed. "Is he part of your team, Wilmington?" the officer asked.

"Yeah that's Vin, Vin Tanner," Buck answered cheerfully.

"So why's he cloaked like a hound?" one of the officers demanded.

"Pansy assed lawyer up at Cascade says he's a hound. Until we can prove him wrong it's the only way we can keep Junior outta the UNPK's hands," Buck answered.

"If that isn't the stupidest thing I've ever heard," the Lieutenant snorted.

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"Vin, can you translate for these two so we can get a report?" Mike Souder asked.

"Sure, Sergeant you willin' ta take some advice?" Vin asked hesitantly.

"What kind of advice?" Souder asked softly.

"You watch me close so's yah don' insult tha Travelers by accident," Vin suggested.

"Kid, I'm gonna watch you like a hawk. I sure don't want to insult these fellas after they came to us. The Rom avoid us and I think we've given them good reason after what you've taught me so far," Mike smiled openly.

With Tanner's help they soon had the reports done to the officer's satisfaction.

Sergi smiled and tapped Vin's chin. "Kon mangel te kerel tumendar r.oburen ci soxa phenela tumen o ca cimos pa tumare perintunde," he said emphaticly. Sadullos merripen, Chok-ensro," Sergi laid his hand on Vin's head in blessing before he and the yet unnamed Traveler disappeared into the shadows.

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"Lieutenant Wilberforce, the kid here says he can identify the murderer if we bring him in," Sergeant Souder reported, grinning widely.

"That's great." Wilberforce smiled. "We'll have to figure out how to get you recognized by the court as an expert witness," the Lieutenant said thoughtfully.

"Court recognized mah trackin fer near on eight years now," Vin said softly.

"Can we call you fellas back if this gets to court?" Wilberforce asked.

"After we settle things in Cascade," Chris reminded.

"For what it's worth son, I know your not a hound," Wilberforce offered his hand in friendship.

Vin stared for a moment before shaking the offered hand.

"We got us fifteen minutes 'fore tha train leaves," Vin reminded in a shaky voice.

The Four Corner's lawmen had a police escort back to the station. Thanks were once again offered as they climbed aboard the private car and disappeared into its confines.

"I sure as hell hope they can keep that kid out of the UNPK's hands," Souder sighed.

"So do I, Mike, so do I," Arthur Wilberforce grunted.

The two men stood for a long time watching as the train pulled out.

"God keep you safe in his hand," Mike whispered.

_**Romany Words**_

_**morado stained, unclean status**_

_**hai yes**_

_**miro my or mine**_

_**tesorthene spirit/heart friend**_

_**moarte death**_

_**gami bad**_

_**glox non romany man**_

_**familia extended family**_

_**Rom baro big man, an intermediary with gaje**_

_**toreen coming**_

_**garda police**_

_**juggal or jukkal dog**_

_**kekko no**_

_**Beano.abri born out of doors. Slang meaning like a gypsy**_

_**Ves tacha beloved**_

_**sedre child**_

_**Chok-engro watchman**_

_**sheka horseshit**_

_**Rakka diro juklon dandrar. Watch out this dog bites.**_

_**vyusher wolf**_

_**Kathal go gently**_

_**phal brother**_

_**Kon mangel te kerel tumendar r.oburen csxoxa phenela tumen o ca cimos pa tumare perintonde he who wants to enslave you will never tell you the truth about your forefathers.**_

_**Sadullos safe**_

_**merripen life**_


	33. All Trails lead to Cascade

33. All Trails lead to Cascade

Vin stood silently, looking back toward Cody Station while the rest of the guys examined the private car.

Chris looked up from behind the bar and grimaced. _Damn he's zoned. _Setting down a bottle of bourbon, he moved to the Sentinel's side.

"Come on back, Pard," Chris coaxed, reaching out to touch Vin's back.

"Ain't zonin'." Vin's soft whisper was shaky.

"What's up then?" Chris coaxed.

"They talked wit'** me.**" Vin's voice held amazement.

"Sure they did," Chris answered in confusion.

"Chris. they **talked** ta **me**," Vin said in disbelief. "Lt. Wilberforce even wants me ta testify when they catch tha fella what kilt tha girl. Sgt. Souder, he . . . he prayed fer me as we pulled out. Jist like I really am . . . **people**." Vin's voice broke on a soft sob.

"Of course he did," Chris soothed, looking over at their friends helplessly. "Vin, you are people, a damn important people," Chris reminded.

"To ya and tha guys. Out there I'se jist a hound." Vin waved his hand indicating the rest of the world.

"Not for long. After this hearing you'll be Vin Tanner and nobody can say different," Larabee growled. "Are you worried about them trying to take you back?" Chris scowled.

"They'll kill all of yah 'fore they'll let it come ta a hearin' and yah knows it," Vin snapped.

"It won't do them any good to kill us. Capt. Snelling has those letters that Ezra had us write. Judge Travis has sent copies to different folks. It will only make our case stronger if we **don't** testify now," Larabee chuckled. "It's gonna be real hard for them to say you're a hound with you writing letters you know."

"I don't understand. Chris?" Vin questioned faintly.

"Vin, you know Shakespeare and Bobbie Burns don't you?" Chris smiled faintly.

"Yeah, what's that got to do with anythin'?" Vin questioned in puzzlement.

"We've been using medicines and learning skills from Blair Sandberg, right?" Chris reminded.

Tanner's brows drew down in a frown. "Yeah."

"How, Vin? They've been dead a long time," Chris prodded.

"They left they's thinkin' . . . . Well hell. Them letters is gonna live longer than either one of us," Vin huffed in realization.

"Probably," Chris grinned.

"Don't mean they still won't try and take us out," Tanner growled. "Them fellers ain' ver' smart."

"What with the excitement and the issuing investigation upon our arrival at Cody Station, I failed to mention the telegram awaiting us," Ezra interrupted. "Captain Snelling wired ahead to inform us of the situation. UNPK headquarters in Denver is rather preoccupied at the moment," Ezra smirked and his eyes danced. "It would appear that Captain Snelling's investigation has been responsible for the arrests of over forty individuals."

"Then it's over except for the shouting." JW smiled in relief.

"Ain't over, won't never be over," Vin sighed.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Tanner is correct. It is seriously doubtful that the repercussions due to the heinous acts perpetrated within that institution will heal within the next several generations." Ezra's eyes were troubled as he contemplated the future.

A thoughtful silence fell over the group at his words.

"The sins of the fathers . . . . ." Isaiah sighed sadly.

"I always wondered why God would punish innocent children for another person's sin," Buck growled.

"Ain't God's punishment," Vin answered quietly. "It's a warnin' that yer sins affect yer childer. Tha children suffer 'cause a yer choices."

"I don't follow," JW spoke up.

"Yah tolt me yerself tha' tha children of a spouse abuser'll most often either beat his own wife, er a gal will marry a man that'll beat her, right?" Vin turned to Buck.

"Yeah, stupidity squared," Wilmington huffed.

"They's only doin' things tha way they's taught. Tha sins of the fathers," Vin explained.

"Never thought of it that way. Guess you could think of it as a warning couldn't you?" Buck frowned thoughtfully.

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"If you're through trying to fix the world, there's a whole bathroom back yonder. It's got a tub filled with hot water that has **your** name on it." Nathaniel walked over and started steering Vin down the corridor. "Ought to loosen up them muscles. Don't give me none of your 'I'se fine' shit either. I can see you leaning. Your back's giving you fits."

"I'se fine," Vin huffed.

"I can always drown you," Nate muttered, firmly pushing the protesting Tanner down the hall.

"Chris, didja hear that? Nate's threatenin' me," Vin called, holding tightly to a door facing to prevent his further movement.

"It isn't a threat," Nate promised.

"Chris!" Vin turned around, trying to look helpless. Nathaniel calmly pried the tracker's fingers off the wood and 'assisted' him toward the bathroom.

"Remember to hold him under 'til the bubbles stop," Larabee laughed.

"Ez, he's gonna put that stinky shit in tha water," Vin protested.

"I find the odor of mint to be quite pleasant," Ezra drawled.

"You would," Buck muttered.

"Bucklin, come on and help me out here," Tanner urged.

"Is there enough water for me to get a bath later?" Wilmington ignored Vin. "I want to spruce up a bit. Lots of lovely ladies in Cascade, I'd hate to disappoint them."

"Enough water for all of Four Corners to get a bath," Nate promised. "Everybody get a bath early, I want Vin to soak a bit before we pull into Cascade. We'll want him moving easy in case there's trouble at the station." Nathaniel's words put an end to the hi'jinks.

"Somebody put some water on to heat. I need to fix Vin some tea," Nate called over his shoulder as he directed Tanner to the waiting tub.

"Don't need none of that damn tea," Vin protested as he was escorted firmly into the bathroom.

"You'll drink it and if you don't stop that cussing I will wash your mouth out with soap," Nathaniel huffed.

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Vin lay on his bedroll, spread out on the rug in the main room of the private car. A soft groan, moan or purr sounded occasionally as Nathaniel rubbed in some of his bruise balm while he worked out the knots that the bath hadn't relieved.

"Damn, Nate, that feels good," Vin moaned.

"Good, I want you to get some sleep, all right," Nathaniel ordered as he rubbed Tanner's scarred back with long smooth strokes.

"I'll try," Vin whispered. "Rekin I'se scairt, Nate."

"You're a smart man, of course you're scared. We all are. You're family, Vin Tanner, and those fools are messing with family," Nathaniel reminded.

"Family?" Vin turned so he could see Nate's face, awed by the healer's words.

"Yes, family. You're my little brother. I promise, if things go bad I'll head for the hills with you. If the rest are fast enough they come can come too," Nathaniel said seriously.

The rest of the team exchanged nods as they silently agreed with Jackson.

"Nice thought, Nate, but tha' won' happen. I'll leave tha' courtroom in a collar and cloak. They cain't let me be people. Tha UNPK ain' gonna let it be knowed they's keepin' slaves." Vin turned away, stretching back out. "Don' git yerself kilt on mah account."

Dark looks filled the other men's faces as Vin's words registered. Buck placed his hand over JW's mouth before the youngster could protest.

"I'm not leaving you in that kind of hell," Nathaniel snarled.

"Yah jist take care a Chris. He's gonna be tore apart when tha bond's broke," Vin said softly.

"Didn't take you for a quitter, Tanner. You **will** hold on until I can get you out of there. You survived before, you can do it again," Chris growled, settling himself beside Tanner's head.

"Wasn't bonded then." Vin wrapped his fingers around Larabee's wrist. "Iffen they don' kill me outright, I'll zone and that'll be tha end of it."

"Bond goes two ways Vin. I don't think I'll make it on my own," Chris admitted.

A pained silence filled the railway car as the future loomed before them.

"We will just have to ensure that the pair of you are not separated. Working for the UNPK is unthinkable. Fortunately for us all, I did see fit to retain an attorney to represent Mr. Tanner. The attorney is quite certain that this matter can be held in the courts for a minimum of twenty years due to appeals, if necessary." Ezra explained.

"How are we going to pay for some fancy city lawyer?" Buck muttered worriedly.

"I called in a marker," Ezra admitted uncomfortably.

"What kind of marker, Ezra?" Larabee demanded. _Ezra looks like he's sitting on an anthill. This can't be good._

"A family debt, one of long standing," Ezra smiled faintly.

"Yah shouldn't have wasted it on me." Vin looked troubled.

"Mr. Tanner, the debt is owed to you," Ezra chuckled.

"Me?" Vin asked in disbelief.

"To your bloodline, Mr. Tanner. We might protest and con our way out of many situations, but a Standish pays their debts," Ezra said seriously.

"Yah don' owe me nothin', Ez," Vin protested.

"The Standish's owe a debt to the descendants of Devin James Tanner. We are in agreement that you sir, are one of those descendants." Ezra smiled warmly. "I will admit to a certain amount of amusement watching Mutha attempt to wriggle off the hook as it were."

"Mother?" startled exclamations filled the air.

"Mutha and her partner Naomi Sandburg are quite ready to take this case to the Supreme Court if necessary," Ezra responded.

"Your mother is a lawyer?" Chris asked in disbelief.

"My mutha is one of those legal sharks that we all highly detest. In this case, she's **our **legal shark. She will do an excellent job. It is a matter of pride," Ezra soothed.

"It'll be good yah git ta see yer Momma," Vin said softly.

"Vin, not all parent/child relationships are . . . like Mrs. Potter and her children," Ezra began hesitantly.

"Knowed that, Ez. She hurt yah?" Vin sat up abruptly.

"Never physically." Ezra hurried over. Pressing down gently on Vin's shoulders to keep him from rising, Ezra continued. "Mutha is . . . complicated. I have no doubts that she loves me as deeply as she is capable. Mutha finds it difficult to express that emotion. Any display on my part would distress her equally."

Tanner tilted his head and studied Ezra thoughtfully.

"She sees it as a weakness," Ezra offered.

"She's wrong yah know. I seen 'bout as ugly a things as there are. I seen love at its best and brightest too. They ain' nothin' stronger. Yah holt on ta tha love she kin show yah. Jist don' wall yerself off from them that offer it openly," Vin reminded.

"The sins of the fathers or in this case . . . mothers. I will work diligently at overcoming the teachings of my mother in this matter," Ezra promised. "Now then, I do believe you are supposed to be reclining. Mr. Jackson has labored to relax you in order that you might rest. As an expression of his love and concern for a younger sibling."

"Meanin' lay my sorry ass down and don't upset tha healer," Vin teased.

"That was the gist of my suggestion." Ezra smiled warmly as he supported Tanner while he changed position.

"Thanks, Nate," Vin patted the healer's hand before closing his eyes.

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Ezra looked up from his cards and studied the dozing tracker. "Amazing," he murmured to himself, shaking his head.

"You can't help but wonder how come that boy isn't as mean as a snake." Buck sank down in a chair nearby.

"Mr. Tanner is quite capable of being extraordinarily dangerous," Ezra warned softly.

"I know, Ace. Junior could be a killer, no doubt about that," Buck admitted.

"Ever pay attention to sheepdogs?" Isaiah asked as he sat down at the table with Standish.

"Only to admire their capabilities and lay a few wagers on herding competitions." Ezra studied Sanchez thoughtfully.

"Vin reminds me of one of those little border collies, all hair, gristle, and grit. Determined to protect its herd against anything, no matter how stupid those sheep get. That pup will keep working until he's got them pointed in the right direction. He sees that they get watered, fed and bedded down safe and sound. A collie will take on a mountain lion to keep those sheep safe. Through it all those sheep never trust him. To them he looks like another wolf. That same dog that drove off coyotes or a mountain lion will be playing with the children the next morning gentle as it can be. Sure he can be dangerous but he chooses not to be." Isaiah smiled over at the pile of blankets.

"He's never going to be part of society is he?" Buck asked sadly.

"No. He never will," Isaiah sighed softly.

"Long as he has his pack, he'll be happy," Chris said as he rejoined them while drying his hair.

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Vin was soaking in the tub when Ezra brought up a concern. "Attorney Horace Snelling will in all probability have a squad of UNPK officers at the station to take custody of Mr. Tanner," Ezra warned softly.

"Uh huh, thought about that. It's why we're getting off at Rainer instead," Chris answered.

All eyes settled on Larabee waiting for an explanation.

"By the time the train makes it through all the mountain switchbacks and then the entire switching yard before getting to the station, we can already be in Cascade and settled into our hotel," Chris smirked. "First they'll have to backtrack to see where we got off. Then they'll have to find us in town. Place as big as Cascade, it'll take them a while. It'll give us a chance to see how things are set up."

"Ez, what kinda scheming are yah doing?" Buck asked sharply.

"We are traveling by private car. It will be difficult to ascertain who may or may not be present. I suggest several of us remain on board. It is doubtful that these UNPK officers have a description of either Mr. Larabee or Mr. Tanner," Ezra mused.

"You want one of us to pretend to be Vin?" JW blurted.

"NO," Chris snarled.

"I had no intention of such a thing. I was simply suggesting we allow them to **assume** one of us is Mr. Larabee. At no time will we lie to any official. Has anyone brought appropriate clothing?" Ezra asked.

"It might keep them confused for a bit." Isaiah nodded.

"I've got black pants and a black duster," Buck spoke up. "No black or dark shirts though."

"I've got a black shirt that ought to fit Buck," Nathaniel offered.

"My hat should fit," Larabee said thoughtfully.

"Let JW hang around quiet like, get him out of the suit coat and into a work shirt. Everybody will make sure to call him by name, but it'll keep them wondering if he ain't Vin," Buck suggested.

"So who's going with me and Vin?" Chris asked.

"Me," Isaiah spoke up.

"This is the address of an old acquaintance. He will contact mother for you and get you settled. Joseph Ellison is a trustworthy associate, one of the very few I know. We will then contact you through mother." Ezra held out a card.

"We'll leave most of our gear with you," Chris explained. "Be careful, all of you."

"Old Horace ain't gonna know what hit him," Buck laughed.

"Let's get you packed and ready to go," Nathaniel stood up.

"Hey guys, this sounds great but you forgot a couple of things," JW huffed.

"We did?" the others exchanged looks.

"You haven't asked Vin what he wants to do," JW reminded. "Nathaniel, is he up to riding a horse?"

Voices were raised and blended as the comments burst forth.

"Well, hell."

"Vin most certainly needs to be consulted."

"Boy, hasn't had much control of his life up to now."

"He needs to have his say."

"Junior might have some real good ideas. He knows more about how the UNPK works then any of us."

"Ah kin ride," Vin announced, putting a stop to the tirade as he entered the room. "Cain't think of a better way of doin' this. Rekin they's less chance a somebody gettin' hurt wit' us doin' things Chris' way."

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Rainer wasn't anything more than a mail stop. Not even a real station, just a telegraph/post office and a boarding platform.

Vin made a few suggestions about what to watch out for at the train station in Cascade. His troubled eyes lingered on each of his pack members as he climbed off the train. The hood of the cloak had been brushed back. Tanner hadn't bothered to put his arms in the sleeves and it hung loose down his back, as much of the royal blue showed as the medium grey as he moved off, following Larabee.

While Chris and Vin went to rent horses at the livery, Isaiah stood watch at the telegraph office until the train pulled out, preventing any message from reaching Cascade ahead of them.

"We need to rent some horses," Chris said as he walked into the livery office.

"Sure, how long do you need them?" The wiry old man got up from his desk.

"A week I guess," Chris said thoughtfully.

"Usually charge two dollars a day. A week, make it twelve dollars a horse," the old man offered.

"Sounds good." Chris shook hands, sealing the deal.

"You boys know how to ride?" The wiry old timer asked.

Larabee raised a questioning brow.

"Makes a difference what horse I send out. No use killin' a greenhorn. Oh sorry, Byron Rafe," the old timer introduced himself.

"Chris, Isaiah will be along in a minute. This is Vin Tanner," Chris avoided using his and Isaiah's less common surnames allowing the old man to think they were all kin. "We can ride."

Vin nodded politely but stayed in Chris' shadow.

"Good, good," the old man strode off. _Father and son?_

//'Minds me of a bird.// Vin smiled faintly, watching the old man bounce along.

"We need something reliable but an easy ride for Vin. He took a fall a few days ago and doesn't need getting jerked around," Chris called after the quick moving Rafe.

"Got just tha thing, she's a real lady. Mouth like a marshmallow and a stride like a gentle brook." Byron moved to a stall and led out a bay mare. "Her name's Sugar. You be good to her."

The old man stiffened slightly then gently offered the lead rein to Vin. _So that's the way of it. They won't get this boy. Not if I have a say. Be best to turn the rest of the horses out in the back pasture. It'll take most of a day to get 'em caught up if someone comes looking for a ride. _

"Yes, Suh," Vin answered softly, moving forward to make the mare's acquaintance.

"Yer a perty lady aintcha, Sugar," Vin crooned as he took the lead rein from the old man.

Nodding, Rafe smiled before turning back to Larabee. "Your boy has a gentle touch."

"He likes horses," Chris agreed.

"Isaiah's a big man," Chris informed Rafe.

"Let him have Sampson then. Nothing special, but he's strong and reliable." Once more, the old man went to a stall and led out a big grey gelding.

"Think I'll let you have Ugly," Rafe grinned as he opened a stall door. "Come on with you, knot head." A beautiful black mare stepped out of the stall and followed along behind, gently pushing the old man with her nose.

"Ugly?" Chris questioned, looking at the horse in question.

"She's a real beauty, ain't she? She was full of herself when I got her," Rafe chuckled.

Thoughtfully, Larabee studied the three horses. "Not exactly run-of-the-mill livery nags," Chris noted.

"They were getting barn sour. I don't rent these out to just anyone. Get them back to me when you can. If not well . . . take care of 'em," Byron Rafe said calmly.

Chris stared in shock.

"Saw the cloak. UNPK took my boy a long time ago. You keep that boy out of those animals' hands." The old man smiled tearfully.

"Son, you run over to the house and tell the missus to pack some traveling food for the three of you. I'd take it as a favor if you'd let her say good-bye. She never got to with our boy. It's hurt her something fierce these last fifty years."

"Yes, Suh, I'll do that. Thank yah." Vin smiled shyly.

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Isaiah finished adjusting the stirrups for his long legs before climbing into the saddle. "God bless you both," Sanchez nodded to the old couple standing with their arms around each other.

"It's a long ride," Chris said as he watched Vin climb into the saddle.

"Ain't gettin' no shorter. I'll be fine, Cowboy. I've ridden in a lot worse shape than this," Vin soothed. "This lady is part walkin' horse. Has her a nice smooth stride. Be like sittin' in a rockin' chair." Tanner reached down and patted the bay mare.

"Be safe child," the Missus called shakily.

"Yes, ma'am." Vin reached down to cup her check, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Chris nodded to the old couple standing by the open door then turned his horse toward Cascade. "Let's ride."


	34. Bumps in the Road

**Bumps in the Road**

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In the private car bound for Cascade.

Worried eyes avoided meeting as the train ride seemed never ending. 

"You figure they're laying in wait for us at the station?" Buck finally spoke.

"They're leaving it awful late if they're intending to jump us on the train," Nathaniel muttered.

JW bit his lip nervously. "They could have spotted Chris, Isaiah and Vin leaving the train." 

"Highly improbable, Mr. Dunne. Even if an observer had seen them depart, Isaiah guarded the telegraph station thus preventing an untimely announcement concerning their change of transportation," Ezra Standish drawled, never looking up from his cards.

"Don't need the station," JW said. "All you need is a telegraph key. You can shimmy up any pole and hook in to send a message."

Everyone turned to stare at the youngster. 

"What?" Buck growled.

"That's what Emmet told me when he taught me to send code," JW explained. 

"You didn't think to say something about this earlier?" Nathaniel muttered. 

"I figured Chris and the others would at least have a head start. It's more than they'd get on this train," JW reminded.

"Kid's right about that," Buck sighed worriedly.

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On the Trail

"That boy has the weight of the world on those shoulders," Isaiah sighed as he watched Vin scout ahead.

"He's so damn tense he's making his back worse," Chris scowled.

"I'd suggest resting the horses, and get something to eat. That'll give Vin's back a bit of a rest as well," Isaiah stated. "It will give you two a chance to bond. Both of you can use it," Isaiah continued uncomfortably. "I can make myself scarce."

"Bonding always makes Vin feel a lot more secure," Chris answered thoughtfully.

"Horses need a break, Pard," Chris raised his voice getting Tanner's attention.

Vin nodded and waved, indicating that he had heard before riding on ahead in search of a place to rest.

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"Coffee?" Isaiah asked as he dismounted.

"We better not make a fire. Could attract the wrong kind of attention," Chris answered.

"Missus Rafe packed some tea," Vin held up a canteen. "Wrapped it in a towel, it's still warm."

"Sounds wonderful." Isaiah beamed. 

Chris and Isaiah settled the horses while Vin squatted down and began to lay out the food. Sanchez and Larabee failed to notice when Vin's motions ceased. The tracker tilted his head as if trying to hear a distant sound. The exhausted man's controls slipped and he faded into a zone. 

"You want a back rub, son?" Isaiah laid a hand on Tanner's shoulder. 

Vin jerked, and made a pained sound before trying to scramble out of reach. 

"Vin?" Isaiah questioned the youngster's actions. 

Wide, frightened eyes peeked up then dropped, refusing to meet Sanchez's gaze. The tracker pulled the cloak tightly around himself and seemed to shrink in size. Cautiously the sentinel backed away. 

"What the hell?" Chris growled and stepped forwards only to have Vin scoot back nervously. 

"Chris, stay back we don't want to spook him. I think this might be one of those flashback things that Nathaniel was concerned about," Isaiah crooned. 

"He's having a waking nightmare like Sandburg wrote about?" Chris ducked down trying to catch Vin's eyes.

Tanner exploded into action crabbing sideways a few steps he lunged trying to slip past Isaiah. 

"Grab him," Chris yelled. "He doesn't need to get lost out here."

"Easier said than done," Isaiah hissed as he lifted Vin off his feet, holding on to the wildly struggling sentinel while trying to avoid any further injuries to the younger man. Vin wasn't hampered by any such ideas and was fighting with everything at his disposal. Larabee joined the fray as Vin discovered the knife at his belt. Pinning the tracker's wrists until Isaiah could get a good hold Chris disarmed Vin. 

"Did he cut you?" Chris demanded once Vin was bound hand and foot. 

"No, thank you for your assistance," Isaiah panted as he gently lowered the tracker to the ground.

A low heartbreaking keen filled the air as Tanner finally stopped struggling.

"Any idea how long this will last?" Chris asked shakily.

"None, I'm afraid the bonds are only making the situation worse," Isaiah sighed. 

"We can't let him run off in the state he's in. And I'm sure not going to let him kill one or both of us," Larabee growled 

Isaiah crooned softly and reached out to soothe the terrified man only to jerk back when Vin snapped at him.

"He thinks he's back in UNPK hands," Isaiah said in dismay. "Can you reach him?" 

Vin had worked his way to his knees and now knelt submissively his head to the ground.

"He's stopped making words," Chris whispered. 

Tanner snarled dangerously when Larabee moved closer. Tensing, the tracker fell silent and awaited his captor's abuse. 

"He's not hearing me." Chris sighed after a long moment of soft coaxing. 

"Do you think bonding would reach him?" Isaiah asked hesitantly.

"Damn," Chris whispered. "Let's give him a few minutes to come out of it on his own first. Bonding could scare him deeper." 

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"It's been two hours Chris, he's not coming around," Isaiah said.

"I know," Larabee admitted. "We're going to have to stake him out."

"What?" Isaiah growled looking over at the trussed up Tanner. 

"He'll hurt himself or me if we don't. Hands above his head in case I have to go for skin contact." Chris ordered bitterly. 

"Vin will forgive you brother," Isaiah assured the troubled Larabee.

_But can I forgive myself? _ Chris wondered silently before meeting Isaiah's eyes, "I know but he shouldn't have to." 

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Vin had finally been secured between two stakes belly down. Wrists secured to one and ankles to the other. Once bound in place Tanner had abruptly stopped fighting. 

"Easy Cowboy, I'm not going to hurt you," Chris crooned stroking Vin's arm to no avail. Larabee sighed and pulled off his own shirt before pulling the cloak and Vin's shirt over the trapped man's head exposing bare skin and effectively blinding him at the same time. Sitting on Tanner's legs Chris stretched out over the slender man bringing his bare chest into contact with Vin's back. Softly crooning Larabee stroked gentle fingers up the extended arms until his fingers interlaced with Vin's restrained ones. 

Using his nose and chin to shift the material to the side Chris blew under the blinding cloak and shirt allowing the warm air to bathe Tanner with his guide's scent. Slowly the panicked breathing calmed and the shuddering of the sentinel's skin eased. Gently Larabee began to stroke and pet the tense back and shoulders.

"Qwith!" Vin whispered, snuffling deeply.

"Are you with me Tanner?" Chris asked shakily.

"Why's I tied?" Vin asked faintly tugging at the bindings fearfully.

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Slipping back from the edge of the overlook, the watcher made his way back down to his men.

"You were right he's with them. Don't kill the other two just leave them afoot. We can do with out having every lawman in the country on our tails," the dark-eyed man ordered his men. "Bind the Sentinel and be gentle. We do not want him injured." 

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"Calm down, I'll have you loose in a second." Chris nodded and Isaiah cut the ropes freeing the tracker. "You had a nightmare." Larabee began to tug on the shirt trying to ease it back in place. Giving up he tugged the blinding cloak and shirt off completely to sort out later once Vin was settled.

Vin twisted out from under Chris and came to his knees. Larabee simply rolled to his side and studied Tanner. 

"I need ta bond," Vin growled.

"We just did," Chris reminded softly.

"I need . . . equal not captive," Tanner snarled. 

"Good enough, I yield me," Larabee rolled to his back and lifted his chin. Submitting to his sentinel's need. Vin . . . pounced for lack of a better term. 

The pair were locked in a tight embrace. Hands grasped tightly and nips were delivered to the tender flesh at the throat marking each visibly as belonging to the other. Isaiah backed off and whistled faintly as the two men bonded wildly.

_Well Lord it's certainly not sex. It would have been easier if you had just put them in the same skin to start with. A soul shouldn't be split between two bodies this way. _

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Private Car on train to Cascade

"Heads up boys, looks like we have company after all," Buck warned as he slipped into the private car.

"Mr. Dunne please cease and desist. Secure your weapon. We have nothing that the UNPK is looking for. We will simply rest, relax and prepare for the end of our journey. Please avoid any confrontation which might add to our current dilemma," Ezra calmed the youngster.

"I'm not going to let them rough any of us up," Buck warned.

"I would never expect you to do so," Ezra answered gently as he moved to a table across the room. "I will not allow any of us to be placed into danger if I can at all prevent it." From his new position he could keep an eye on the entire room. Ezra calmly pulled out a deck of cards began to shuffle and dealt four hands of poker. 

"Coffee anyone," Nathaniel held up the pot.

"Coffee?" JW spluttered.

"Looks pretty innocent sitting around drinking coffee and playing cards don't you think?" Nathaniel smiled as he sat down beside Ezra. 

"No JW, I'll take the chair with its back to the room," Buck ordered moving the youngster. 

Coins were tossed into the center of the table and arranged in front of each man giving the illusion they had been playing cards for quite some time. 

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"Ezra, are you stacking the deck?" Buck scowled.

"Mr. Wilmington if I had stacked the deck I would not be holding such a pitiful array of cards, I fold." Standish tossed his cards face down on the table. 

"Don't blame Ezra for this mess. **You **dealt this trash," Nathaniel growled folding his hand and laying it face down on the table. "I fold too." 

"Are we playing Old Maid or something? This sure isn't a poker hand," JW demanded folding his hand and tossing it to join the rest of the discards. "I fold. There were at least 2 suits of cards I never saw before." 

"Come on guys play the hands out. JW you know good and well there weren't any extra suits," Buck grumbled.

Ezra studied Wilmington thoughtfully. "A royal flush, Mr. Wilmington?"

"How'd you know?" Buck demanded sharply.

"Well, it could be the way you keep peeking at your cards," JW snorted.

"Or the way you're wiggling in your chair like a kid in church," Nathaniel chided. 

"The rapid blinking and chewing on the ends of your mustache is a dead give away when you have a powerful hand," Ezra revealed.

"Aw Hell!" Buck tossed down his cards. "I'm that easy to read?" 

"Yes" the other men chorused. 

"Sounds like they're trying to take us by surprise," Buck grunted, tilting his head up as the sound of several pairs of boots came from overhead. 

"They should have taken their boots off. They'd move a lot quieter and there's a lot less chance of slipping and falling off," Nathaniel explained to JW. 

"Nate, you and Ezra have the front door, JW and I will take the back," Buck nodded toward the doors just to be sure everyone was clear on the directions. 

"Ill mannered Philistines," Ezra huffed as the doors splintered under the boots of the attacking men. "How rude a simple knock would have sufficed."

"Let this be a lesson, JW, check to see if the door's locked before kicking it down," Buck lectured moving behind one of the sofas for protection and dragging JW with him. 

Nathaniel dove behind a chair and waited for the attackers to make their way into the room. Ezra simply stood up and moved over to the right wall. Reaching up he pulled on the emergency stop cord before seeking cover.

"Ezra?" Buck questioned.

"If we are being attacked by . . . robbers the train may be under attack as well. If not well . . . assistance in subduing these miscreants would be helpful." Standish's grin revealed his dimples and gold covered tooth. 

"Lots of witnesses," JW laughed. "Hard for the UNPK to explain if we went missing after they attacked us this way."

"Damn boy you've been hanging around Ez to much," Buck teased. 

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On the trail

Disturbing noises brought Vin up out of the link. Tanner tried to shake off the lethargy caused by the bonding. His head lifted and a warning snarl sounded just as his bonded collapsed unconscious on top of the smaller man. Furious sapphire eyes meet those of the man who had struck the guide. Vin rolled Chris off and sprang to his feet. Once up, he was tackled by more strangers. When they finally moved back Tanner lay tied hand and foot in the dust. To protect themselves from snapping teeth, the men had slipped a stick between Vin's teeth and tied it in place. 

"Do not hurt them," the leader warned as the dazed Isaiah was roughly thrown down beside the unconscious Larabee. We don't have time to safely destroy the handler even if we knew which one he is. Once we have our prize home we can bond him properly." 

The swift raid ended with Tanner wrapped in the hound cloak and slung belly down over a saddle then tied in place. Ponying the captured mounts the raiders rode off with their prize. 


	35. A Change in Itenarary

**Author's note: **The Magnificent 7 don't belong to me never will. I was trying to buy them on E-bay but someone out bid me. Two dollars, twelve cents and a chocolate bar just weren't enough. I make no money off my . . . relationship with the boys, obviously or I'd have more than two dollars and twelve cents wouldn't I. 

Many thanks go out to my wonderful muses K.T. the opinionated and Pookwana of the mighty red pen. I shudder in terror. A wonderful lady has consented to help me out with the beta work. Three cheers for Kathy. Poor woman has no idea what she's getting into.

_If it's written in italics it's thoughts many of which shouldn't be said out loud anyway_. /Between back slashes it's mind speech of somekind./

A Change in Itinerary

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On the train headed to Cascade

The engine's brakes engaged and pained metal squealed as the train slowed to a stop. The loss of forward motion caused cars all along the train to slam into their couplings jerking the cars violently. Unprepared the attackers were thrown off their feet. At the front of the private car two of the attackers were actually thrown off the landing and ended up under the wheels. Before they recovered the would-be attackers found themselves under the guns of their intended victims. 

"JW cover them," Buck directed. Moving quickly and efficiently, Wilmington bound each man's wrists together behind his back. Ankles were then secured to wrists before tossing the unfortunates into their car. 

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"Gentlemen, a simple knock would have merely been polite," Ezra drawled as he looked down the barrel of his pistol at the . . . miscreants. "Please throw your weapons on to the ground to your left." 

"What's going on?" An authoritative voice demanded as the conductor appeared lining up the double barrels of a large shotgun on the group. A brakeman stepped into view toting his own shotgun.

Nathaniel cast worried looks at each of the railroad workers but he continued to securely bind the possible criminals and toss them into the private car. 

_Mr. Wilmington is correct one can ride a horse down the barrel of a shotgun with the business end pointed in one's direction. _Ezra froze in place, but didn't lower his weapon keeping a close eye on his prisoners. Nathaniel kept an eye on the conductor but never stopped securing the now unarmed attackers. 

"A robbery attempt ah believe Suh," Ezra smiled innocently. "Mah companions and ah were enjoying a simple game of poker when we were alerted to our danger by footsteps overhead. When the doors were damaged by these . . . vandals we took action to protect ourselves."

"I have orders to make sure the hound traveling with them is properly secured," a voice rose in protest.

"Hound?" the conductor frowned.

"Andy those **are** UNPK uniforms on these guys," the brakeman growled. 

"Suh if they are UNPK officers, which seems highly debatable, why then did they not announce themselves, present their orders and conduct their inquiry?" Ezra demanded indicating the splintered door. "Examination will reveal the door was not locked." 

"Fancy talker has a point Amos," Andy the conductor remarked to his companion. "Who might you gentlemen be?" 

"Ezra P. Standish at your service sir. My companion Nathaniel Jackson," Ezra smiled winningly. 

"Nathaniel are our prisoners secured?" Ezra asked calmly.

"Yes," Nathaniel dusted his hands after he tossed the last man in to join the pile in the private car.

"I am going to holster my weapon now, after which I will remove my ID from an inside breast pocket," Ezra explained his actions before moving.

"Deputy Sheriff?" Andy relaxed slightly.

"From Travis County, Colorado territory, as is Mr. Jackson," Ezra indicated the black healer. "If you would be so kind as to allow him to retrieve his ID as well."

"Go ahead only a fool takes on a shotgun and neither one of you fellas strike me as foolish," Andy grinned as he lowered the barrel on his shotgun slightly.

"It's all right Amos, this one's a deputy too. Wave at Pete to start rolling and we'll see what this is all about," Andy ordered. 

"If you would be so kind as to ascertain the situation at the other end of the car? I would rather not leave one of my companions behind," Ezra suggested.

"How about you scooting back there and checking yourself. Mr. Jackson and I will be right behind you," Andy ordered cautiously.

"A well considered action Mr . . . ?" Ezra complimented.

"Tucker, Andy Tucker, that's Amos Tibbs," Andy introduced himself and the brakeman.

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"Looks like they really are UNPK," Andy scowled at the ID confiscated from the secured men.

"You have written orders to kick in doors on railroad property and attack passengers?" Andy growled at the UNPK officer. 

Buck and JW were sitting on the couch watching the interaction in amusement after everyone had been introduced.

"My orders are to make certain the hound is secure in whatever manner I deem appropriate," Capt. Corbin Stravinski snarled.

"There's no hound in baggage," Amos spoke up. "Why'd one be with Sheriff's deputies any way? Aren't they UNPK property?"

"They stole it," Stravinski snapped. 

"We are not now, nor have we ever been in custody of a **hound**!" Buck barked, springing to his feet. "These . . . FOOLS are trying to claim a freeborn citizen is a hound. We're on our way to Cascade to prove them wrong." 

"Well this is a real puzzle," Andy sighed. "I guess first of all I need to see the . . . supposed hound and make sure he's not endangering passengers."

"That kid's our hound," Stravinski snarled. 

"I am not," JW bridled. "My name is Josiah William Dunne and I was born in Denver. I've been living in Four Corners for almost three years now. If you try and collar me I'll make sure you don't rape any more babies." JW sprang to his feet only to be restrained by Buck's big arms. 

"Somehow I don't think Dunne here is your hound. Don't you have some kind of description of him?" the conductor sighed.

"Every hound I ever saw was closer to these big fella's heights. They're suppose to be ugly as sin too," Amos spoke up.

"This one's a pup," Stravinski growled. 

"Perhaps you could describe this supposed hound so that we might secure such an animal," Ezra spoke settling comfortably in an over stuffed chair.

"He's a hound," Stravinski snapped. 

"You've got no idea what this kid is even suppose to look like? What . . . were you gonna go up and down this train stealing kids from their families?" Nathan demanded bitterly. "Nothing but slavers!" 

Amos and Andy exchanged worried looks at the comment and the implications of the UNPK search.

"We're after the hound these idiots are taking to Cascade," Stravinski roared.

"Why?" Andy asked calmly. 

"Because he's ours," Stavinski huffed.

"They're on a train bound for Cascade with the kid. Seems to me there's no need to . . . attack them? There some reason you don't want that kid getting to Cascade?" Amos asked sharply. 

"They've hauled that abomination around the country, taking it in with folks treating it like it's human. No telling how much danger they've put people in," Stravinski protested.

"You point out this hound and I'll consider how dangerous he is. You can watch him from secure storage where you and the rest of your men are going to spend the rest of this trip. I don't know for sure what's going on but you're not going to disturb my passengers." Andy announced.

"I want that hound," Stravinski bellowed angrily. 

"You and Amos can check out the place but Nate, JW, Ez and me are the only one's here." Buck offered calmly.

"There's seven of them," Stravinski growled.

"Mr. Christopher Larabee, his son Devin and another deputy Mr. Isaiah Sanchez left the train earlier. They are making their way to Cascade by other means."

Stravinski hissed and glared at the four remaining peacekeepers. "You're all going to end up in a retraining center for this." 

"Our subpoenas' stipulate that we appear before the judge in Cascade's court by noon tomorrow. In no way does it indicate the means by which we do so," Ezra said coldly. "We will appear together gentlemen. My compatriots and I are pressing charges as well as the railroad I would presume?" Standish looked over at Andy.

"We sure will, destroying property this way," Andy agreed. "I'll lock these orders in the safe. I think the judge might want to see them."

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On the trail

"Come on brother stay with me this time," Isaiah coaxed patting Chris cheek as the unconscious man's eyelids fluttered. 

"Preacher?" Chris groaned and rolled to his side and vomited. 

"Don't touch that," Isaiah grabbed Larabee's hand before he could investigate the lump on the back of his head. "I only just got the bleeding stopped." 

"Vin!" Chris gasped making his way to his feet and staring around wildly before he passed out.

"I could have told you that was a bad idea brother," Isaiah groaned holding his own head in his hands and stared at the crumpled sheriff. 

Larabee stirred after a few moments, his eyes opened in a pained squint. "Vin?"

"They took him," Isaiah admitted.

"UNPK?" Larabee groaned.

"No they looked like Indians actually," Isaiah said. "Of course that doesn't mean they weren't working for them."

"They aren't keeping him," Chris struggled to his feet slowly. "How bad are you hurt?"

"A sore head," Isaiah grunted before making his way to his own feet.

"They took the horses?" Larabee hissed looking around. 

"Yes they took the horses." Isaiah rubbed his aching head gingerly.

"Grab the canteens and some blankets," Chris ordered as he knelt down and began to repack the food.

"Brother?" Isaiah asked in concern. _Scrambled his brains a bit._

"I'm going after Vin," Larabee said firmly.

"Chris, they're on horses and we don't even know which way to start looking," Isaiah reminded.

"They went this way," Chris headed down the trail.

_Not as if we're getting anything accomplished just sitting here. _Isaiah gathered up the sole blanket and the two remaining canteens and started after the weaving Larabee. 

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Vin suppressed a whimper of pain as spikes of agony pierced his brain. The lurching of the horse combined with the pounding headache and then Tanner's stomach protested his head down position. Violently the bound man began to vomit. 

Quickly the horse came to a stop and strong hands freed him and lifted him to the ground. A rapid spate of words in a foreign language filled the air. 

A supportive arm helped the sentinel sit up. Carefully the stick was pulled from between Tanner's teeth and a canteen made an appearance. 

"Rinse and spit," a gentle voice coaxed. "I am sorry for your pain Guardian. My name is Chanu."

_Guardian? _Vin open his eyes just a slit and studied his captors. _Nez Perce maybe? These boys sure ain't UNPK. _"Chris?" he asked desperately.

"You are free of him," the Chanu's voice was filled with satisfaction. 

Tanner came to his feet in fury. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY GUIDE?" Any weakness seemed to be shed as Vin looked around for Chris. 

"A headache nothing more little one. We will find a real guide for you," Chanu tried to calm the angry sentinel. Pitying eyes lingered on the slender figure. _Poor boy too long held as a slave._

"Chris is **mah ****real guide**!" Vin snarled. 

"You are safe now," the warrior began soothing the agitated youngster once more.

Tanner snarled and sprang onto the horse's back. Reining it around he set heels to the horse and headed back the way they had come. Fast moving warriors pulled him from the saddle. Despite Vin's struggles he was sat gently on his feet. The warriors encircled him but made no move to restrain him further. The worried raiders moved slightly closer as Tanner began to pace. 

"It were nice of yah ta try and 'save' me but I'se already free," Vin growled.

"You were tied," the 'Indian' reminded softly. _Years of abuse to overcome. He knows nothing else. _

"Ah had a wakin' dream. They was pertectin' me 'til I come around," Vin snarled.

"The black dressed man would have forced you," one of the warriors said impatiently. 

"Chris found me through the bond," Vin snapped.

"You cannot see the truth," Chanu said sadly. 

"**You** cannot see the truth. Chris took me **away** from a UNPK Hunter. Do you see a collar?" Tanner snarled and dropped the hound cloak revealing his partially clothed body.

"Do you not see your own scars?" a warrior asked in horror. 

"They's old, from 'the before'," Vin huffed. 

"There is no collar," an older man joined the warriors.

"They would have raped him," Chanu said bitterly.

"No, they wouldn't have. Look they had me tied down and staked out like a deer hide. Iffen they was gonna force me I couldn't have stopped them. They didn't even take mah boots off much less mah pants," Vin reminded sharply. 

Thoughtful looks were exchanged as that simple fact was presented.

"Look at his throat don't tell me there was no force used." a warrior waved indicating the bite marks on the sentinel's throat and shoulder. 

Vin chuckled faintly. "Rekin Chris has a few nip marks of his own."

"Children it isn't uncommon for there to be bruises, nips or even scratches when a bonding pair's in heat," the older man laughed. "I am Kojae." _It is something you never forget. Truly bonded this Sentinel. It is for the best, I doubt Spring Rains could have bonded this boy at all. Very powerful, very powerful indeed. Perhaps we can tempt him into a mating before he leaves. _

Tanner flushed and ducked his head. Trying to ignore the speculative stares he reached down for the cloak and covered himself. 

"That is not a hound cloak," a warrior breathed reaching out he examined the strange cloth. "So very soft."

"Why the cloak at all?" Chanu demanded.

"UNPK's tryin' ta claim me. Chris and mah pack'll go ta jail iffen they don't take me inta Cascade fer a ruling. They's been throwin' shit at us tha whole way. Onliest way Chris could keep me out of UNPK hands was fer me ta wear a cloak in hound gray," Vin sighed.

"They should have taken you into the hills," Chanu scowled.

"This is fer tamarra and tha unborn guardians. It has ta start somewhere," Tanner explained. "We's gonna be cuttin' it close gettin' there on time as it is. So's kin I have our hosses back?"

"You may need help Guardian, your guide was unconscious," Chanu said sheepishly. 

"Bring a horse for the Guardian. We will escort his pack to Cascade." Kojae ordered.

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Chris stopped and scowled as a group of horses and riders came into view. "Isaiah do you see what I see?"

Isaiah chuckled. "I'm thinking that some of Brother Ezra's silver tongue has worn off on our boy." 

Vin rode up and looked down at his guide. "You loose somethin' Pard?"

"Damn and here I thought I finally found somebody to take you off my hands," Chris snorted.

"Man could have his feelin's hurt. A greetin' like that," Vin chided. /You hurt bad/ 

/Just a lump on my skull./ "If you want me to take that bag of bones off your hands, it's going to cost you three good horses," Chris growled up at the older man at Tanner's side.

"Done!" Kojae said emphatically.

"Kin some of yah go get our stuff?" Vin asked looking toward the warriors.

Silently, three men rode off.

Chanu scowled, then his eyes widened as Tanner slid from the saddle and nuzzled and snuffled under his bonded's chin. Larabee's hands were shaking as he petted the tangled curls and pulled the tracker close. Vin gently worried the skin under Chris' left ear between his teeth reclaiming the guide.

"God, Cowboy," Chris whispered into the curl covered ear. /I thought I lost you./

"Jist a misunderstandin'," Vin patted Larabee comfortingly. /I knowed yah was comin' fer me./ 

"Glad to have you back little brother," Isaiah laid a huge hand on the bent head.

"You hurt?" Vin demanded looking over at the big preacher.

"Not to bad," Isaiah answered.

"Let me see," Vin growled slipping out of Chris' arms and around behind him. Gentle fingers parted hair and examined the seeping knot on Larabee's skull. "You'll live." 

"Preacher," Vin tugged on an earlobe getting Sanchez to bend down so he could examine the knot on Isaiah's head. "Rekin you got a dandy headache both of you. Wish we had time to let you rest but we're gonna have to ride to make it fer court. 

"Nathaniel doesn't want folks to sleep after a head injury anyway," Isaiah reminded as he mounted his horse. 

"How's your back?" Chris demanded tugging aside the cloak so he could examine the bruising himself.

"I'se fine," Vin spluttered jerking the cloak back in place.

"Be honest with me or I'm stripping you down to see for myself." Chris snarled.

"Ta tell yah tha truth it's better," Vin looked puzzled.

"Better?" Isaiah said in disbelief.

"Somethin' popped when I was slung over the horse earlier. Think it helped." Tanner shrugged. 

"Take it easy," Chris ordered. "Get Nathaniel to look at it when we get to town." 

Tanner and Larabee mounted up and headed for Cascade neither one of them even noticing they were instinctively leading the warriors. 

"Your people are fortunate to have such a pair," Kojae said to Isaiah as they fell in behind. 


	36. A Ticket to Ride

**Author's note: **The normal disclaimer- they ain't mine. If I have unintentinally borrowed an idea from another author I humbly appologize. It wasn't deliberate. I'm a voracious reader and sometimes I'll pick up something and not realize it. /If the words are in back slashes/ it means it is telepathy or a close cousin. _Words in italics are thoughts. Some of which are better left unsaid. _There is a dictionary of unfamiliar words at the bottom of the story.

**A Ticket to Ride**

A bird call brought Tanner's head up with a frown. Chanu rode up from where he had been scouting ahead. "Wagons are coming," he explained as he lead the group into the brush and out of sight.

Kojae smiled faintly to himself as he watched the young sentinel take advantage of their stop to check his pack members injuries. _Not so damaged that he has not claimed a pack and a Bonded. Larabee needs to think less and allow instinct to guide him._

"Stop clucking like an old hen, we're fine," Chris ordered, gently ruffling Vin's hair.

"We aren't going anywhere, son," Isaiah soothed the obviously restless Tanner.

Vin flushed slightly and abruptly stood in his stirrups leaning toward Isaiah. Stretching, the youngster snuffled under the older man's beard and along his neck before pulling away.

Sanchez sat frozen for a second before smiling widely. _Looks like he's finally accepted me as one of his own._

"I'll be damned," Vin whispered cocking his head toward the road. "Tinkers," he announced and started back the way they came.

"Tanner hold up," Chris scowled. Reaching out he grasped a rein, stopping the horse.

"Chris, Tinkers are . . . ," Vin began only to be cut off.

"Sh, voices carry," Larabee growled faintly.

"Larabee they's," Vin tried once more only to be hushed.

"Be quiet," Chris hissed.

"Chris," Vin started only to be cut off by a sharp motion of Larabee's hand. Tanner sighed deeply looking over Chris' shoulder.

"Would you be quiet," Larabee snarled.

"He really needs to listen to his Watchman," Chanu snorted softly in disgust.

"Chris does have a tendency to get the bit in his teeth," Josiah admitted in an amused whisper.

Kojae shook his head in exasperation. "Well meet Demetri."

"Well meet Chanu," A laughing voice answered. "Sergi said to be on the look out for a young sentinel. This is the one, or do I seek another?"

Chris spun around to see a brightly dressed silver-haired man sitting in the branches of a tree.

"I am Demetri, my brother Sinjin," the old man introduced and waved toward a shadow that proved to be an equally aged old man dressed just as brightly.

"Kinda hard ta hide this many folks from a Sentinel," Vin smirked.

"What?" Chris spluttered.

"Demetri and Sinjin are a bonded pair," Chanu grinned. "And friends, as is Sergi."

"The grandfather is a conductor?" Vin asked.

"Yes, young one," Demetri answered.

"The old man at the railroad station?" Isaiah looked bewildered.

"Rom, Tinkers is Romany. Looks like Sergi done give us tickets ta ride the underground railroad." Vin bowed deeply to the older pair.

"Underground Railroad? Why would we want to ride another train?" Chris snapped short temperedly.

"It ain't a real railroad, Larabee. Something like the underground railroad has been around in most every society. Folks needin' ta get from here ta somewhere's else without bein' seen use tha underground railroad," Vin explained.

"I'll be damned. Tanner you make some of the strangest friends." Larabee chuckled.

"They help criminals avoid the authorities?" Isaiah looked uncomfortable.

"'Siah, iffen I was tryin' ta run from this court thing. Would yah figure me fer a criminal? I'd be breakin' tha law," Vin studied the older man.

"Of course not, you're trying to avoid people abusing the law for their own profit," Isaiah snorted.

"UNPK woulda took Sinjin iffen they'd ever knowed what he was. Same as they took Mr. Rafe's boy," Vin pointed out.

"Damn," Larabee hissed. "How many sentinels are there? Wait, don't tell me. If I don't know I can't tell."

"We have shipped many 'persons of interest' these last fifty years," Demetri hopped down from his perch with an easy grace belying his age. "A few sentinels among them." Two were lost but our section has never been compromised," the old man said proudly. "So where is it you would go young one, you and your companions. The far north is cold but the Innuit have warm hearts toward guardians. The deserts of this world welcome the watchmen as do the mountains and uninhabitable lands. Not easy places to live but the UN does not persue the Chok-engro into the empty lands. The cost is far to high." Demetri's eyes twinkled.

"About that, I need to be in Cascade by noon tomorrow. I have to be in court," Vin said calmly.

_**KEKKO! Young fool**_,_** there are gami garda**_,_** you will be a moarte juggal!" **_Demetri bellowed.

Kathal, miro phal. Reason must have, hai. Let talk the Ves tacha sedre." Sinjin ordered softly speaking for the first time.

"Explain this stupidity to me," Demetri growled.

"I have this chance. This one chance to shift the way our world views the Watchmen. Maybe, jist maybe, I can help them yet to be born," Vin said earnestly. "I have a good place and family, yes. I will not force them to leave all behind and follow me. They will hunt down and try and kill my bonded if I do not appear. Either I am free or I am dead, I will not hide in the bushes like a rabbit."

Demetri growled and cursed stalking up and down the clearing flinging his hands about as he ranted. Finally the old man stopped and just glared at the wide-eyed Tanner.

"He has choosen his road. It is only for us to help or hinder," Sinjin sighed sadly.

"The UNPK seek to stop you?" Demetri demanded.

"Yes," Isaiah spoke.

"Well I guess it is time to bell the cat," Demetri laughed and patted Vin as he passed.

"Welcome Travelers to the underground railroad," Sinjin spoke to the gathered men.

"We have never tried to smuggle a Watchman **into** UNPK hands," Demetri clicked his tongue, his unhappiness obvious.

"Which Judge and what court?" Sinjin asked softly.

"There's more than one?" Chris asked in surprise.

"Cascade is a very large city. There are over 20 courts and 40 judges," Demetri answered.

"His name is Jefferson and he's at the main courthouse, Superior Court # 1," Isaiah said reading the copy he had made of the court order.

"Judge Kevin Jefferson?" Chanu demanded.

"Yes," Isaiah nodded after consulting his paperwork.

"They mean to give the boy no chance at all. Judge Jefferson is in Seattle and will not be back before nightfall tomorrow." Chanu snarled. "He speaks with the Central committee about tribal lands."

**7777777**

**By Rail**

"We should be pulling into Cascade in about 20 minutes," Ezra warned.

"JW, you stay close and don't draw that gun unless the rest of us, do you hear me?" Buck scowled.

"I hear you," JW sighed. _I'm not a little kid and I'm not going to give them a chance to shoot us down because I was waving a gun around._

"Will your mother be at the station?" Nathan asked curiously. _Never thought of Ezra having a mother. Thought he was like a snake. Just lay the eggs and go off on your own business._

"Yes, appearances are everything," Ezra sighed. _I do hope she's playing the elegant lady instead of the conwoman._

A polite knock on the broken door revealed Andy Tucker standing in the doorway. "We got a signal from Cascade Station." Andy looked worried. "After this I radioed and asked what was going on in Cascade." Tucker indicated the broken door. "There's a huge crowd and Peace Keepers all over the place. Station Master is afraid things will get real ugly. Sherman, that's the Station Master, said they have at least three snipers on roof tops over looking the station."

"We appreciate the warning, Mr. Tucker," Ezra nodded in acceptance of the situation.

"Dammit this is wrong," Andy growled.

"Have to agree with you on that," Buck hissed.

"Peace Keepers are suppose to protect us not . . . assasinate some kid trying to get his side of the story told." Andy Tucker snarled, facing a unpalitable truth.

"Best try and make some plans," Nathaniel said flatly.

A pale faced Amos Tibbs climbed down from the roof of the passenger car next in line. "Andy, Sherman overheard some of the officers talking, their intending to kill **ALL** these fellas," he blurted nervously.

Andy snarled. "Amos, go forward."

"Andy, you're going to need help," Amos answered stubbornly.

"We're talking obstructing justice or something here, Amos. You've got a wife and kids to think about." Andy reminded softly.

"I am. You think I can face my kids knowing I let folks get killed this way? Nope, I'm in. We're coming up on the bay siding. You uncouple the car and I'll throw the switch and send this car off that way. It won't buy them a lot of time but it's not going to send them into the middle of a shooting gallery and them the targets." Amos began to climb the ladder back to the roof.

"Well Hell! Sometimes that man can surprise the hell out of me," Andy grinned and shook his head. "He's making a whole lot of sense. Any of you know how to use the car brake?"

"I do," Nathan answered.

"You'll be slowing down once you're uncoupled from the train. But it's all downhill to the docks so you'll build up speed. A man's going to need to slow this thing down before it jumps track and ends up in the bay," Andy warned. "The track makes a big loop and you're going to be south or east of the courthouse depending on where you get off. Best of luck, Gentlemen."

7777777

"Well, we're on our own guys," JW announced as the train was pulling away leaving the private car to coast along. "I know how to throw a switch and uncouple the cars. And I'll swear to that in court if I have too." JW looked determined as he watched the small figure of Amos swing back aboard the train in the distance.

"I personally saw you throw that switch and pull the pin to uncouple us from the train," Ezra agreed warmly.

"Good men, those two," Buck said. "Never would have figured your short legs could have made the jump to get back aboard. What with you throwing the switch like that."

I best get set on that brake. It's been along time since I did this, might need some help, Buck. It would be a shame if I couldn't slow us down after JW's hard work." Nathaniel's wide grin flashed.

7777777

"WHOO WEEE! That was some ride." Buck Wilmington stood up shakily and began to shake the dust off.

"Anybody hurt?" Nathaniel stood up carefully, and gingerly checked all his limbs.

"Guess Buck's right, I bounce," JW said cheerfully and rolled out of the thick brush that had cushioned his own fall.

"Ezra! What in hell are you doing?" Buck demanded.

Standish was kneeling in the dirt. Head down, he'd rock back, only to rock forward and lower his face to the sod once more.

"He's kissing the ground," JW announced in disbelief.

"Ah was tendering my thanks to the blessed Terra Firma," Ezra responded huffily before climbing to his feet and carefully dusting off the knees of his pants. "Ah will have you know if the occasion presents itself Ah will shoot Mistah Andrew Tucker in a most inconvenient location. That spawn of Satan indicated the track went down hill to the sea port, at no point did he warn that it was **STRAIGHT** down." Ezra hobbled off to recover his luggage strewn along side the tracks.

"Get some new pants, Ez. Those are a bit open to the wind," Buck laughed. "That couldn't have been much more than a 3 grade."

"Ah am not in a good mood, Mr. Wilmington," Ezra warned, fingering the rip in the seat of his pants, exposing most of his behind to all and sundry.

"Must have ripped them fancy britches trying to kiss his **ASS** good-bye," Nathaniel chuckled.

"See if you can find our stuff. I'll try to rustle up a wagon or something," Buck ordered before heading toward a group of gawking bystanders.

**7777777**

**Cascade Railway Station**

Maude Standish carefully hid her frightened trembling as she read the mood of the crowd. _Ah do hope mah boy has the sense which he was born with and avoids this situation. The Peace Keepers have stirred this crowd into a killing frenzy. That libelous diatribe written by Mary Travis in the Cascade Times most certainly didn't help matters._

Maude exchanged a worried look with Naomi Sandberg. Naomi smiled and had that wild look in her eyes that always caused a chill to run down Maude's back. _Whatever is she going to do now?_

* * *

Romany Dictionary

_kekko -no_

_gami -bad_

_garda -police_

_moarte -death_

_juggal or jukkal -dog_

_Kathal -go gently_

_miro -my or mine_

_phal -brother_

_hai -yes_

_Ves tacha -beloved_

_sedre -child_


	37. The Art of the Con

**The Art of the Con**

**On the road to Cascade**

The jingle of harness bells carried to the waiting men as the Gypsy caravan approached. The brightly painted wagons never stopped as they drew even with the riders. Demetri swung from his horse onto the seat of the first wagon. The preteen boy driving smiled warmly at Vin.

"This one is bonded already, Sergi." Demetri ruffled the dark curls. "Go tell your mother there are guests for supper."

"Sure," the boy hopped off the moving wagon and onto Demetri's patient horse. With a wave he thundered off down the road to deliver the message.

Chris frowned faintly looking after the boy.

"My grandson, Sergi. There is no reason for concern. He will not trespass," Demetri reassured Larabee.

"The Sentinel and his pack members should rest after their upset. Their heads are ringing," Sinjin suggested.

"Climb in the back, there are beds, food and water. Be welcome," the old guide offered.

"Sounds pretty good," Isaiah admitted.

"Go rest, we will take care of your horses. There are old friends to visit," Kojae ordered.

Sinjin waited until the rear of the wagon drew even with him before swinging around behind it. Leaning from the saddle he opened the door with the ease of long practice. "Rest I wake before Cascade reach, yes?"

"Thank you," Isaiah carefully shook his feet from the stirrups grasped a convenient grab bar, stepped onto the bumper and swung himself onto the moving wagon. Cautiously he shifted until he could enter the living quarters. Chris gingerly followed the preacher into the wagon. Vin swung onto the wagon gracefully.

"You make that look easy," Isaiah grumbled.

"Spent a lot of time on wagons like this before the UNPK took me," Vin answered softly. "Iffen you'll open tha windas. Ain't sure I kin go in there if it's closed up," Tanner admitted shakily.

Quickly Isaiah and Chris began to open windows. Sinjin and Chanu gathered the loose horses and rode off to the small herd following the caravan. Vin took a deep breath and ducked into the wagon. A faint smile greeted the scent of the familiar herbs. _Iffen I ever have a place ta call mine it'll smell like this. _

"Vin?" Chris asked concern in his eyes at Tanner's distracted manner.

//Home it smells like home.// Tanner 'said' shakily.

"Sit down," Tanner ordered. Vin shifted around comfortably in the swaying wagon snuffling first Isaiah then Chris. With seeming no regard to the Gypsy's privacy he opened cabinets and drawers before setting out items he wanted.

"Vin?" Chris asked uncomfortably.

"Different ways, Larabee. We's guests, these folks mean it," Vin answered distractedly.

Opening a small door that led to the front he poked his head out and spoke to Demetri in the other man's language for a moment. Leaving the door open he searched a cabinet over one of the beds pulling out a jar and sniffed the contents.

"Now let's getcha both cleaned up a might," Tanner mixed some of the bottle's contents in a bowl and added water. "Hold this," Vin pushed the bowl into Chris' hands. Using a cloth pad Vin carefully cleaned the broken skin over knot on Chris' skull. "Ain't bad," Tanner reassured his guide. Tossing out the mix and preparing fresh Tanner cleaned Sanchez's aching skull.

"Y'all want somethin' fer them headaches?" Vin asked quietly.

"Yes," Both men agreed.

7777777

Several miles down the road Sinjin swung up onto the wagon seat beside his guide.

"They're sleeping?" the sentinel asked softly. Peeking through the open door he smiled faintly taking in the bonded pair snuggled together on Demetri's bed.

"Yes, the young one remembers our ways. He is . . . content. The other two are comfortable as long as the boy is," Demetri answered.

"This thing with the court . . . " Sinjin scowled.

"Change must begin somewhere. The boy is wise for all his youth," Demetri acknowledged.

"I sent Chanu and some of the others on ahead. They will look for those who would cage the falcon," Demetri growled.

"I noticed that you sent most of the wagons down the south trail," Demetri said.

"Most of the gifted children. It is not good to draw to much UNPK attention," Sinjin replied.

"Wise my brother. They will join us on the fair grounds?" Demeteri asked worriedly.

"Yes, by then we should have Vin situated," Sinjin agreed.

**Cascade, Washington**

**Undisclosed hotel**

"He charged five dollars just to haul us from the docks. It can't be more than half a mile," Nathaniel fumed as he gathered up his two bags and Chris' single bag off the boardwalk. Glaring after the freight wagon in disgust he turned to the hotel.

"Mistah Jackson, silence is golden. And it requires gold to purchase it upon occasion," Ezra drawled calmly.

"What?" Nate asked.

"We paid the man extra to keep his mouth shut about where he dropped us off," Buck growled. "What's Isaiah carrying in here anyway? This damn thing weighs a ton." Wilmington grunted when he picked up Sanchez's bag to add to his own.

"Is this the right place? It looks like a mansion or something," JW noted tilting his head back to take in the tall building.

"This is the correct location. I have stayed here on several occasions. Please get Mr. Tanner's bag while you're at it Mr. Dunne," Ezra directed.

"Oh yeah sure." JW leaned over and snagged the straps on the backpack containing Vin's things.

"Cedric, would you be so kind as to call a bellboy, please?" Ezra directed his words toward the uniformed man standing at the hotel's door.

"Certainly Mr. Simpson. May I say it's a pleasure to have you staying as a guest once more," Cedric Brooks smiled widely and held the door open wide for Ezra and his . . . acquaintances.

"Thank you, Cedric," Ezra regally entered the building trailed by the almost cowed lawmen. A bellboy hurriedly rushed out the door to acquire the abandoned luggage.

"Well shit," Buck snorted. "Why are we carrying and you get a bellboy?"

"Class has its privileges my good man," Ezra smirked and strode toward the desk.

**Cascade Railway Yard**

The UNPK agents relaxed slightly as the small cart turned into the freight area with only a single woman aboard. Backing the horse she proved to be at least conversant with managing a horse if not actually having a bit of skill. Once the cart was backed up to the platform she slipped to the ground and secured the horse. A lovely if worn purple dress with an out of fashion bonnet indicated she had most likely fallen on hard times.

"That's a fine looking woman and I always did have a thing for blonds," one of the UNPK agents said softly as they watched the woman climb the stairs.

"Ma'am this isn't the safest place for you to be today." The Captain greeted the woman.

"Ah saw all that crowd out front but Ah just had to come, mah darling boy had mah momma's trunk shipped here all the way from Georgia," The blond's fan fluttered in an agitated fashion. Her eyes widened as she noted the uniformed men. "Would you look at that?" She pointed her eyes filled with tears. "They left it setting out in the weather. Grandmere's lace tablecloth is in there and mah Momma's embroidered pilla slips. They'll be ruined if it rains and y'all know it always rains in Cascade." Her chin quivered as she tried to hold back the tears.

"No reason she can't get her trunk is there? I mean she's obviously not sneaking anyone in or out. That trunk was in the luggage car the last 75 miles with Capt. Corbin Stravinski," one of the agents reminded with a snicker. Grins were exchanged at the reminder of the arrogant Captain's comeuppance.

"Aw Cap it won't take a second to load it in her cart. It would be a real shame, a lady getting hurt over this mess today," another man spoke up.

"Come on Cap."

"Ma'am we're looking for an escaped hound . . ." the captain began.

"A HOUND!" the woman bleated and looked around wildly. Instinctively she shifted closer to the officer for protection laying a gloved hand on his arm. "Mah momma said they **EAT** people!"

"Now, now there's no need to be so frightened, Ma'am." The officer patted her hand comfortingly. "It's doubtful he's even in the area. No one's going to hurt you while I'm here."

"You're certain, officer?" she asked timidly tilting up her head so she could stare worshipfully at the much taller man.

"Oh mah, Ah do beg your pardon Suh. How forward of me," the woman blushed faintly and stepped back to a more socially acceptable distance. "Ah don't know what came over me."

"Completely understandable, Miss? I did give you rather a shock," the captain smiled down warmly.

"Simpson, Marie Simpson. If Ah might be so forward as to ask your name?"

"Captain Andre McCrutchon, Ma'am, your servant." Andre placed a soft kiss to the back of the offered hand.

"Why a gentleman as well as an officer." The woman relaxed slightly and drew her hand back after a slightly longer than proper pause. Her fan snapped open and she hid her face behind it as a soft flush coated her cheeks.

"Now about that trunk. Well I hate to impose on you Miss Simpson . . . "

"It's Misses Simpson, Ah'm a widow now." Tears clung to her lashes and her voice caught on a sob.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Simpson." McCrutchon began once more. _Not dressed in widow's black so it's been over a year. I wonder if the lovely Marie might be interested in company?_

"Your trunk is big enough a man could hide in it," McCrutchon said.

"Mah trunk?" the blond stared at her trunk in horror. "If anything has happened to mah Momma's things somebody's going to wish they were dead before Ah'm finished." Marie Simpson snarled and stalked over to the heavy chest. "The lock is still in place," she gave a sigh of relief.

_Fiesty thing. _The captain knelt down and tugged on the lock making certain it was still secure.

"Ah forgot just how big it is," Marie sighed. "However am Ah going to get it loaded?" She turned helplessly to her big strong protector.

"I'll have a couple of my men load it for you. That way you can get out of here quicker. Now you be sure and go out the back there so you don't get hurt by that mob out front," Andre suggested as he gently escorted her back to the cart.

"Adams, Clifton grab hold of that trunk and load it for the lady," Capt. McCrutchon ordered.

"Oh thank you boys ever so much. Why Ah had no idea the UNPK hired such fine gentlemen and you're all so handsome too," Marie gushed as the trunk was carefully loaded and secured in place.

"Now you drive careful, Mrs. Simpson. Folks are real stirred up I wouldn't want your horse to spook or anything," one of the agents said earnestly and tipped his hat before rejoining his fellows.

Capt. McCrutchon carefully handed Marie into the cart and handed her the reins. Smiling sweetly she chirped to the horse and trotted out of the freight yard.

The sergeant shifted his cigar from one side of his mouth to the other with a twitch of his lips.

"Rank has its privileges," McCrutchon growled.

"Yep, how you gonna find your temptress again?" the sarge asked curiously.

"Why I'll . . . I didn't get her address. Well it'll be on the freight manifest," the captain answered sheepishly.

"She didn't sign for that trunk," the grizzled sergeant smirked.

7777777

Several blocks away the cart pulled up by the mounting block next to the farmer's market. A lovely red-haired woman placed a basket of fresh produce in the back of the cart next to the trunk. "I see you got the trunk. Did you have any trouble?" She asked as she joined her friend on the seat.

"Why certainly not, really my dear. It was hardly worthy of my God given talent," the blond smiled sweetly. "Why some very nice young men employed by the UNPK loaded it for me."

"Maude Standish, I swear you have more nerve than a stripper at a church picnic," Naomi Sandberg giggled.

"Does wearing only a garter belt under your choir robe count?" Maude smirked.

"You didn't?" Naomi gasped.

"Of course Ah did. Ah was in the middle of mah rebellious teens at the time," Maude snickered.


	38. The Mice will Play

Gypsy Caravan

"Wake young one," Demetri called softly from the doorway. "There is news."

"Chris, wake up," Vin nudged his bonded as he sat up.

"There is a difficulty," Demetri sighed.

"What's the problem?" Chris growled.

"A Judas goat," Sinjin snarled.

"What?"

"The UNPK use a woman, Charlotte Richmond, she patrols around the courthouse," Demetri explained.

"So we just make sure she's distracted when we slip Vin in," Isaiah sat up with a yawn.

"You do not understand, this woman is . . . big trouble, very big trouble. If she were pregnant it would be different. Vin will be very attracted to her scent, she is a weak sentinel," Demetri groaned. "She is like catnip to the sentinels."

Chris and Isaiah looked puzzled for a moment. "OH! That kind of trouble."

Vin flushed and shifted in embarrassment.

"Can't be any worse then dealing with Brother Buck," Isaiah grinned weakly.

"Time to make a plan," Chris snickered faintly.

7777777

Undisclosed Hotel

Cascade, Washington Territory

"Cedric, my good man, I find it necessary to exit the hotel unobserved. Would it be possible to use a road less traveled?" Ezra asked softly.

"Undesirables lingering about again, Mr. Simpson?" Cedric smiled faintly.

"It must be the company I keep," Ezra sniffed, studying his companions.

"An unsavory lot if I ever saw one," Cedric agreed. "I would suggest you make an appearance of settling in and I can slip you and one companion out shortly."

"That would be quite acceptable," Ezra smiled warmly and shook hands pressing several folded bills into the man's palm at the same time.

7777777

The law offices of Standish and Sandburg

"Have you received any news on our Ezra?" Abby Lee, Maude's long time housekeeper, cook, ex-nanny, con-woman and snoop extraordinaire demanded setting down the food laden basket she carried.

"Not a word, Abigail. Ah do declare that child is determined to turn mah hair grey," Maude fumed.

"Ezra is very capable and you know it just because he's out of touch doesn't mean he's in trouble," Naomi Sandburg reminded quietly.

"It's when Ezra's quiet you have to watch out," Abby sniffed. "Remember when he was three and took such a dislike to that Bryce character Maude brought home.

"Abby, Mr. Benson was a fine man," Naomi chided before breaking into giggles.

"He did teach Ezra a considerable amount about playing poker." Maude scowled at the two sniggering women.

"How much money did that boy finesse out of Benson while the man tried to pump him for information?" Naomi asked.

"$4,312.05," Abby responded instantly. "He was so proud of himself."

"So was I," Maude admitted. "Bryce wasn't nearly as good as he thought he was." Maude gave a 'cat with the cream' smile.

"One of our better moments indeed," Naomi smiled at her long time 'partner-in-crime'. "We recovered every dime he exhorted from the widows fund."

"Just a . . . bit besides. I really don't understand why Judge Daily was so out of sorts. He was the one that brought the injustice to our attention." Maude made a point of checking her nails.

"Humph, we needed reimbursement for our time, after all a girl has expenses," Naomi exclaimed. "Those old fuddy duddies down at the court house ought to be thanking the good Lord we only target criminals."

"I'll get Sneaks to check around if we don't hear from Ezra shortly," Abby promised as Maude's worried gaze lingered on the window once more. Now, eat before it gets cold."

7777777

"Mr. Ellison, my name is Isaiah Sanchez and I was told to contact you." The big preacher introduced himself.

"Glad you made it, I was beginning to worry," Joseph Ellison greeted Isaiah. "Is the Sentinel safe?"

"As safe as possible," Isaiah answered. "I hope you have some suggestions on how to get Vin to court without getting killed."

"You're not going to like it but I have this crazy idea," Ellison answered, then proceeded to explain his idea.

"You're insane," Isaiah growled.

"Probably," Ellison agreed.

"Crazy like a fox. You know this really might work . . . ." Isaiah grinned widely.

7777777

"Ezra, Ah do declare, you're making me old before mah time," Maude chided as she opened the third floor window before Standish could even tap for attention and drug him into the room.

"How terrible, then you'd pass as mah sister rather than mah daughter," Ezra teased Maude lightly brushing a faint kiss on the offered cheek.

"You're a scalawag, Ezra Standish," Abby wrapped her arms around the man she had helped raise.

"Ah had good teachers." Ezra winked. "How's mah girl?"

"Much better now that you're here," Abby studied Ezra closely.

"Ms. Naomi as lovely as ever," Ezra enthused.

"I'm not playing poker with you and I'm already working for free," Naomi finished her response with an exasperated sigh.

"Do be careful Ezra they had snipers at the rail yard," Maude turned the conversation to a more serious bent.

"Ah am Motha. Do be careful your own selves," Ezra said worriedly. "Now down to the brass tacks. Our party divided earlier today in an attempt to throw our adversaries off our track. It would appear to have worked thus far. I was contacted a short time ago by a reliable source letting me know that the rest of the party had arrived in Cascade. I am to inform you that tomorrow Mr. Tanner will be in the court room without fail."

"Where is he now?" Maude asked softly.

"I am uncertain, mah source was not forthcoming," Ezra admitted. "The note Sheriff Larabee sent expressed his concern about endangering everyone. Yes motha, I considered the possibilities of it being a forgery. The penmanship, contents, and tone of the missive were such that I can only believe it to have been scribed by Sheriff Larabee."

7777777

Cascade Police Station

Greetings rang out as the three brightly painted wagons pulled to a halt in front of the building while the rest of the caravan continued on toward the fairgrounds.

"Huh, if it ain't Demetri and Company. What kind of broken down nags have you brought to sell this time?" Deputy Henry Connor demanded with a grin.

"Good horses only, the finest of horses does Demetri have," The old tinker sniffed.

"Only if you're making glue." Henry gave a derisive snort.

Demetri laughed softly. "Marshall Banks hasn't come to his senses and put you **in** the jail instead of guarding it?"

Henry laughed and shook his head. "How are you doing Demetri? Kind of late aren't you? Thought you'd be here last week."

"Life is good. No, I am not late, for 35 years we have brought horses to sell at the fair. Always the fair is this week. You are just impatient for the women to start cooking," Demetri teased.

"They cooking up one of those nags that dropped dead on the way?" Henry teased.

"You may come and look at those 'nags' later, hai? Don't touch, hai, not like you can afford such a horse on a civil servant's pay," Demetri smirked.

"Hey I've been saving my money," Henry protested.

"Then perhaps you can afford one of the dead ones," Demetri teased.

"Darryl's inside. Paper work for your people, camping permit, and license to sell is waiting for your signature." Henry waved.

"And our money for all those things, yes? Legal thievery, taking a poor man's hard earned dollars for your exorbitant fees." Demetri chided.

"Yep, that way us poorly paid civil servants can buy one of your near death nags," Henry laughed.

* * *

Romany words

Hai- yes


	39. The Shell Game

Cascade Jail

7777777

A group of Gypsies entered the jail cheerfully chattering to Henry and each other. This was one of the few places they didn't worry about being harassed by the authorities.

"Good to see you Demetri," Darryl Banks stood up from behind his desk with a smile. "Maybe Henry will stop whining now."

"But Henry likes to whine," the old Gypsy chuckled.

"That he does," Darryl laughed. "Put your John Hancock on those and you're ready to go."

"Who was John Hancock anyway?" Demetri grumbled as he began signing paperwork after reading each document carefully.

"President of tha Continental Congress for the soon to be United States of America back in 1776. He signed tha Declaration of Independence real big so's that tha king of England wouldn't need his glasses ta see it," a soft voice answered unexpectedly.

"You learn something new everyday," Henry laughed.

"Marshall Banks we need your help," Demetri interrupted.

"Legal trouble?" Darryl asked in concern.

"Hai, what we need is not illegal but perhaps will cause trouble for you," Demetri admitted.

"What kind of trouble?" Darryl demanded.

"Come, young one," Sinjin urged gently.

The Gypsies parted ranks revealing the youngster in their midst.

"Together, now and always," Chris Larabee placed a supportive hand on Vin's shoulder and urged him forward. The pair moved to stand beside Demetri. The grey cloak was now revealed to the strangers' gaze.

"Shit, that's the escaped hound that the UNPK's been going crazy trying to catch," Henry hissed, pulling his sidearm.

"Vin Tanner isn't a hound. My name is Chris Larabee. I'm the sheriff of Travis County, Colorado Territory. We have a court order to appear by noon tomorrow. The UNPK has been making things very difficult." Chris showed his ID and a copy of the court order.

"Put that thing away Henry. If they were going to make trouble they wouldn't have come in here," Darryl snorted.

Demetri handed the permits to one of his sons. "We will be alright. Go set up camp."

With suspicious looks, and much muttering, the younger Gypsies left the office, shooed out the door by Sinjin.

Henry looked sheepish and holstered his weapon. A confused look crossed the man's face. "He talked! Didn't he? Hounds don't talk . . . Do they?"

"Not that I ever heard of," Darryl Banks admitted.

"Hounds do not. Forgotten already stories of the Watchmen told by your grandfather, Squirrel?" Sinjin chided Darryl gently. "Made from Watchmen hounds were."

"S*******! that's more words than I've heard out of you in 20 years," Henry blurted.

"Rude Sedre, tell Yolande you were swearing miro phal will. She'll wash your mouth out," Sinjin warned with a faint grin.

Henry's nose wrinkled and his mouth worked in distaste. "What does she make that soap out of anyway?"

"You do not wish to be knowing," Demetri chuckled, looking at Henry and his partner in crime, Darryl Banks. _They spit bubbles for a week. The three of them were eight I think. Joseph . . . It is good that the __Ellison __boy never came fully on line since we never found his guide. _

Darryl picked up his coffee and took a swallow trying to erase the memory of that soap from his taste buds. "Don't get me involved. Once was enough."

"There's a $5,000 dollar bounty on Tanner. Dead or Alive, poster said he murdered his handler. The paper came in this morning," Banks warned.

"Well hell! I knew they wanted to keep Vin out of court but I never expected them to declare open season on him," Chris fumed.

"Chris, this is bad," Vin chewed his lip. "Innocent folks is gonna git hurt."

"How'd you get involved in this, Larabee?" Banks demanded.

Chris began his story only to be interrupted by an outburst from Henry.

"Eli Joe Hinkley? How'd that bastard end up with the UNPK? We sent him to prison for 9 counts of rape and murder 15 years ago," Henry Connor barked.

Darryl Banks paled considerably as he remembered that particular case. _All these years and his name still gives me nightmares. _Darryl closed his eyes as pictures of the old crime scenes passed through his mind. "Tell me he's dead."

Demetri wrapped a comforting arm around Sinjin as the painful memories of Sinjin's murdered granddaughter came to mind.

"Very dead, Hinkley murdered two people and was all set to kill one of my deputies when Vin killed him," Larabee assured the men.

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do to help." Darryl Banks cleared his throat, wiped his eyes, visibly taking control of his emotions.

Chris nodded respectfully toward Banks before turning to his bonded.

"Looks like we need a change in plans, Pard." Chris rubbed Tanner's shoulder comfortingly.

"How old ves tacha sedre is?" Sinjin asked with a thoughtful frown on his face.

"17 we think," Chris answered distractedly.

"Your sedre is 17 is he not?" Demetri asked innocently.

_Damn manipulative old men trying to bring my son into this . . . God, he's only 17 . . . just a kid . . . He's not a hound . . . They gave that boy to Eli Joe . . . How long? . . . Dead they want him dead . . . put a bounty on him. _Darryl's hand lifted and absently rubbed over his heart trying to ease the ache that seemed to settle there. _Kid's not a hound. _Darryl's gaze settled on the thin youngster. _It could have been Simon. It could still be my son and there's not a damn thing I can do to stop it. . . . Can I live with myself if I don't help? _

Darryl's eyes locked with Henry. A serious look and Henry nodded toward Vin. Just like that the pair decided to do anything in their power to save Tanner.

"Looks like Henry and I are in. What do you need from us?" Darryl asked.

Ellison Private Residence

Cascade, Washington Territory

Joseph Ellison placed a finger to his lips cutting off Isaiah Sanchez in mid word. Rising from his seat Ellison ghosted over to where he could look out the window without being seen himself.

"Dressed outlander, dark hair and a mustache. One of yours?" Ellison asked in a soft whisper.

"Sounds like Buck Wilmington," Isaiah muttered as he made his way over cautiously. "Yeah that's Buck."

Ellison walked over to answer the door as Wilmington knocked. "May I help you?" Ellison asked.

"Joseph Ellison?" Buck asked politely.

"Yes."

"A friend of my told me to contact you."

Joseph gave a non-committal grunt and waved Buck in and closed the door.

"Glad to see you made it Brother," Isaiah rumbled in greeting.

"You're sure a sight for sore eyes," Buck breathed in relief. "Where's Chris and Junior?"

"They're not here, calm down they're fine. We've got a whole lot of unexpected help," Sanchez soothed.

"Where are they then?" Wilmington demanded.

"I sent them to jail," Joseph Ellison answered calmly. "Would you like some coffee?"

"What in hell do you mean you sent them to **jail**?" Buck roared.

"Calm down Buck," Isaiah laughed. "Hear the man out."

Buck sank weak-kneed onto a convenient chair. Wilmington's mustache seemed to bristle with anger as he waited impatiently for an explanation.

Word is there's a $5,000 bounty on Tanner . . . **Dead**. "Joel Taggert is upset, seems like there are a whole lot of UNPK uniforms around here that don't belong to his people. He's not getting any answers on who commands them. Rough estimate indicates almost fifty . . . Officers that aren't answerable to him. We need to get the kid into the courtroom without exposing him to a sniper," Ellison began talking.

"Aw hell, Junior," Buck groaned rubbing a hand over his mustache.

"Sheriff Darryl Banks is a good man, an honorable man," Joseph assured. "He's not going to let anyone take that kid now that he's in **his** custody."

"You're sure?" Buck growled.

"I grew up with Darryl and his chief deputy Henry Connor," Ellison responded.

"Couldn't you have found another protector?" Buck questioned.

"Cascade jail has a direct access into the court house. Tanner won't be exposed to sniper fire or any other kind of attack. He can be kept out of sight until he has to be in the court room. The UNPK will be looking in all the wrong places. Who's going to look for the kid in jail?" Ellison smiled devilishly. "Of course Darryl will probably kill me for putting him in the middle this way."

"Makes a crazy kind of sense," Buck finally muttered aloud. "You're sure he won't turn Junior over to the UNPK?"

"He never turned me in," Joseph answered seriously.

"I thought so," Isaiah chuckled.

Buck locked eyes with Ellison for a long moment. "You're a Sentinel?"

"Lucky for me I never really came on line, so I'm . . . invisible as far as the UNPK is concerned," Ellison acknowledged.

Buck nodded thoughtfully then gave a wide grin. _Hell__,__never thought of myself as a Yenta but Chris and Vin have been good for each other. _"If you're interested there's this quirky little sergeant with the UNPK Rangers by the name of Jacob Blair Stoddard. Vin said he was a guide."

"A guide? A real guide not some UNPK handler?" Ellison asked wistfully.

"Junior called Stoddard a guide, said he was unbonded. Stoddard seemed to know the difference between a hound and a Sentinel. Gave us a whole lecture on the difference. His mother is a Sandburg, descended for from Blair Sandburg," Isaiah assured.

"A Sandburg?" Ellison looked interested . . . Seriously interested.

"He's stationed at Four Corners at the moment, under the command of Lt. Kevin O'Neal," Buck chuckled. _Well, well looks like Stoddard better be ready for company._

"We need to get Tanner's situation settled first. I need to know what kind of future sentinels are facing," Ellison growled.

"We're going to figure out how to contact Col. Joel Taggert," Buck reminded distractedly. "He's been a big help so far and I figure we can use all the help we can get."

"Joel Taggert will be playing poker this evening with Darryl, Henry and I, It's part of his normal routine. He plays with us every week, has for years now. This happens to be the week Darryl is hosting so we'll be in Darryl's quarters, they are attached to the jail." Ellison smirked.

7777777

Cascade Jail

Sheriff's private quarters

"Well come on," Darryl Banks ordered holding open the door to his private quarters.

"Vin, what's the problem?" _He looks ready to rabbit. _"Hell Tanner, I thought you agreed that this was our best plan," Chris said.

Tanner crept a bit closer to the open door and peered in. "This ain't no cell block," Vin breathed in disbelief.

"Cell? You thought I was going to toss you in a cell?" Darryl barked. _Why would he think I'd put him in a cell? _"Get in there," Banks growled reaching out to nudge the boy into his quarters and out of sight of anyone entering the jail.

Vin flinched away from the raised hand then started to drop to the floor reacting to the angry voice as old training kicked in.

"No, Cowboy." Larabee brushed Darryl's hand aside, moving protectively between the sheriff and Tanner. Chris placed a restraining hand under Tanner's elbow stopping his instinctive move. "You don't go to your knees for any man, not ever again."

Vin flushed and nodded shakily, keeping his head ducked he hid his face behind a veil of loose curls. A trembling hand pulled the hood up to hide himself from view. "Sorry," Tanner whispered as he slipped past Darryl Banks into the warm and welcoming room.

"Much healing he needs," Demetri sighed sadly.

"Ill-used the sedre. Move gentle lest you spook him." Sinjin patted Darryl on the arm comfortingly.

Banks nodded faintly. A deep sigh filled the air he clenched his fist lowering it to his side. _He thought I was going to hit him. _Darryl's pained gaze met Chris'.

"He knows you weren't going to hurt him," Larabee grunted as he brushed past the sheriff on his way to his sentinel's side.

"We're gonna have to get the kid past that," Henry grunted. "Now stop beating yourself up and get in there and show the boy you're all bark and no bite."

"We go now." Sinjin headed for the office door.

"The old goat is right. People notice if we stay too long," Demetri sighed. His worried eyes lingered on the burdened youngster.

"I'll take care of them," Darryl promised.

"Know this," Demetri patted the tall sheriff's cheek as if he were still the small boy that once wandered the gypsy encampment.

* * *

Romany words

Hai- yes

Sedre- child

Miro-my or mine

Phal-brother

Ves tacha-beloved


	40. Plotting Mayhem

Plotting Mayhem

Vin cautiously moved deeper into Sheriff Bank's living quarters. Moving slowly he made certain to stay well within the traffic areas uncertain of 'proper' manners. He seemed to disappear within the folds and hood of the grey cloak.

"Just relax, Vin," Darryl Banks urged keeping well back. _Don't want to scare the kid any worse than he already is. How in hell does Larabee deal with this on a daily basis? Damn, I wish I hadn't raised my voice to him. _

"Together Vin, just like I promised," Chris assured the youngster.

The desperate sapphire eyes almost seemed to glow from within the hood. /What do I do?/

/What do you mean, cowboy?/ Chris relaxed slightly as Vin made contact. _At least he's reaching out._

/Never been in nobody's . . . private rooms as a free man, except fer yers, the boys and Demetri's./ Vin answered hesitantly.

"Sheriff Banks invited you into his home. That means you can take the cloak off if you want," Chris suggested.

Vin glanced uncertainly toward Banks and his deputy before turning back to Larabee. Taking a deep breath Tanner strained his shoulders and lifted his head. Turbulent sapphire eyes meet Larabee's straight on. The youngster obviously pushed past the nightmare conditioned responses of a hound. A shaky hand reached up and pushed the hood back before Vin shrugged the hated garment off.

"I'll hang this thing up on one of the pegs over here," Henry gently whisked the offending garment away.

"Thank you for allowing me into your home, Sheriff Banks." Vin said softly his gaze not quite meeting the other man's.

"I'm sorry we got off to a bad start, Vin. Make yourself at home," Darryl invited.

"Not sure why I'm offering, I mean you just left the care of dozens of Romney women trying to fatten you up. Can I get you two anything to eat?" Banks asked as he moved into the kitchen.

"You can get your own," Darryl glared at his deputy currently rummaging through the cabinet.

"Thanks Darryl, don't mind if I do," Henry responded with a smirk.

"Nothing for me, we were well fed," Chris admitted ruefully patting his stomach before moving over to the comfortable looking couch. _Maybe I can get Vin to settle if I do._

Tanner's nose twitched and he shifted a bit until he spotted the bowl full of fruit. Vin inched closer to the temping bowl. /**Peaches**/

"I hope you were serious," Chris chuckled. _He's almost drooling._

"What?" Banks looked confused.

"Vin, ask first. Sheriff Banks might be saving those peaches for something special," Chris ordered.

Darryl smiled warmly at the obviously enraptured youngster. _I can buy more tomorrow. _When Banks started to offer the boy one, Larabee shook his head to stop the move.

"You're a guest in Sheriff Banks' house. Now what would Ezra do?" Larabee asked.

Vin looked from the peaches back to Chris for a long moment. Taking a deep breath the ex-hound raised his head and looked toward Darryl. "Can I have a peach, Sheriff Banks?" Vin asked politely.

"**May** I have a peach?" Darryl automatically corrected.

"Sheriff Banks, **may** I have a peach . . . Please?" Vin straightened a bit and the sapphire eyes met the man's gaze full on.

"I done it right?" Vin looked over at Larabee.

"Ezra couldn't have done a better job," Chris praised.

"Would you like a drink to go with it?" Banks offered. _Manners, no telling what else they've had to teach the poor kid. _

"Yes Sir," Vin answered.

"Milk, coffee, tea?" Darryl asked.

"Coffee please," Vin began to relax a bit as he tried out this being a guest thing.

"Here take these, while I get drinks," Banks handed the boy the bowl of peaches and headed over to start coffee.

Larabee, Banks and Henry Connor began exchanging small talk as they got to know each other.

"**Vin Tanner!" **Chris thundered looking over at the youngster.

Vin quickly slurped the last of the peach before looking up at Larabee. A few pitiful denuded pits were all that remained of the lush fruit.

"You were told you could have **A** peach, not the whole bowl," Chris reminded sharply. "What would Ezra say?"

Vin fidgeted a moment before looking up. "That first one was just about perfect. Seemed rude you not acceptin' **yours**, so I ate it to be polite. Was going to set the bowl back, when I got to thinking about what Ez would do. . . so I ate 'em all."

Chris opened his mouth hesitated, then shut it . _It was peaches, that damn gambler would have too. _

"Vin . . ." Larabee began his reprimand.

Henry and Darryl began to snigger at the unrepentant Tanner. Busily the boy began to lick the juice from his fingers, quite unconcerned by the upcoming lecture.

"Vin the bathroom's this way. Think you need some soap and water to get all the juice off." Henry hurriedly urged the boy up and out of the room. _Glad to see him acting like a kid. _

"I'd say he's taking to being a guest," Darryl laughed picking up the abandoned bowl.

"I'll pay for them. Knew better than take my eyes off him as far as peaches go," Chris chuckled ruefully.

"Forget it, as long as he doesn't get a bellyache over them, it was worth it just to see him relax." Banks smiled warmly.

Henry grinned widely as he rejoined them. "What are you going to tell Joseph when there's no peach pie tonight?"

"I'se sorry**, **didn't mean to cause trouble. Should have realized them peaches was meant fer special'," Vin was obviously upset when he returned.

"Don't worry on it. It made me feel good seeing how much you enjoyed those things. Now watch while I make an executive decision." Banks ordered.

Vin looked confused as he tried to puzzle out what the Sheriff was saying.

"As Sheriff, I'm ordering my lowly deputy, Henry Connor out to restock my larder. While he is replacing the cheese, crackers, assorted sundries he just inhaled from my cabinets, said Deputy can replace one bowl of peaches while he's at it." Darryl firmly escorted his friend to the door and pushed him out. "Do the rounds while you're out."

7777777

Residence of Joseph Ellison

"I'd sure feel better if one of us could talk to Chris and Junior," Buck grumbled before setting down his coffee cup.

"I really don't see any way to do that safely," Joseph warned.

"This late in the game. They're going to have pictures of everyone of us," Isaiah reminded. "The best thing we can do is draw as much attention away from the boy as possible."

"I know you're right," Buck admitted. "Just hate feeling so useless."

"We're not exactly useless," Isaiah grinned.

"What's going on in that twisted mind of yours?" Buck demanded worriedly. _Worse than Ezra when he gets going. _

"I think Nathaniel and I need to go visit the local missions, a little preaching, healing and mingling. Be just the kind of places that they'd expect us to hide Vin. It'll take more than a couple of UNPK observers to keep track of us, Once the locals notice the Peace Keepers some folks are going to be slipping off to avoid being seen. Have to bring in more watchers to try and keep track of all of them." Isaiah blinked benignly.

Buck grinned widely and nodded. "That ought to have the UNPK acting like their pants are on fire and their asses are catching."

"Where are the high stakes poker games held?" Isaiah asked impishly.

"Liberty Saloon, The Hyatt Hotel . . . Which just happens to be a block over from the Sherriff's office," Joseph laughed.

"Need to keep Ez out of there then," Buck groaned.

"Of course not . . . It's just where he needs to be," Isaiah corrected.

"What?"

"Brother Ezra will garner considerable attention . . . hotel rooms, people coming and going."

"He'll take a whole lot of watching," Buck laughed.

"I'll have my father join him for the evening," Joseph smirked. "Way I understand it Standish is an excellent player and Dad loves a challenge. UNPK would be very, very cautious not to cause trouble with the owner of Ellison Enterprises there."

"You sure Ez'll have back up?" Buck demanded.

"My father has his own security team . . . ," Joseph began to laugh. "Oh God, tell me that this isn't Maude Standish's boy."

"Well, Ez's momma's name is Maude," Buck admitted worriedly.

"My dad has mooned over that woman for 20 years. She shows him just enough interest to keep him hoping. There's no way in hell he'd let anything happen to her son."

"Think Ezra might be the safest one of us all." Josiah chuckled.

"If he made it through childhood he can take care of himself. I figured she would have eaten her own young. Woman scares the crap out of me," Ellison admitted.

"Leaves JW and me," Buck reminded.

"Heffner's Gentlemen's Club," Joseph suggested. "Lots of 'private' rooms. Members and their guests. Lots of . . . deals get brokered in the back rooms. Lots and lots of secluded entrances. It'll drive the UNPK crazy trying to cover all the exits, much less keep track of what's going on inside."

"What **kind** of Gentlemen's club?" Buck asked curiously.

"Excellant food, superb library, sitting rooms . . ." Ellison grinned as Buck sighed miserably.

"Sounds stuffy as hell," Buck groaned.

"There's darts, billiards of course, a gaming room . . . Oh yeah, mustn't forget the bordello."

"Damn, it sounds like my kind of place. They have daycare? Need to do something with JW while I'm busy." Buck enthused.

"None of us are members," Isaiah reminded.

"I have a lifetime membership," Ellison admitted ruefully. "My maternal uncle Jack O'Neals' idea of a 21st birthday present."

"Sounds like a great uncle," Buck enthused.

"I always thought so."


End file.
